While Beauty Sleeps

by Ripley Proserpina

  “You’re welcome.” His voice was deep, but he didn’t glance up at me. I remembered his discomfort the night before. Situations like this one, where he was expected to converse, must be painful for him.

  The princes sat around the table, and my mother poured them tea. They sipped in silence, and I stared at the lightening sky. As the sun rose, mist drifted off the grass.

  “Are you going to have your tea?” Wataru asked and I picked my cup up to bring to my lips.

  When it got there, however, I stopped. The only way to do this would be to drag my scarf down my face. If I did that, who knew what they’d see?

  “I’ll drink mine later,” I said and placed the cup on the saucer.

  I met my mother’s gaze as I replaced the cup. The harshness of her features had softened and her lip trembled before she bit down on it hard. This was why I didn’t eat meals with my parents. If they weren’t avoiding me altogether, they watched me with sadness. In my darkest moments, I believed my curse was inevitable, but it wasn’t until I saw my parents that I realized they were certain of it.

  Goro leaned forward to examine the scarf. “It would be gross to drink through the fabric,” he noted. “Fuzzy.”

  My stomach growled and I covered it quickly with my hand. “You should eat,” Dai said, voice so low I barely heard him. “We should go.”

  “I don’t want to go yet,” Goro spoke quickly and Reiji laughed. With every moment, I liked these princes more and more. They engaged in the same sort of banter as my sisters. In fact, they seemed more like brothers than friends.

  “How long have you known each other?” I asked, hoping Dai wouldn’t bring up leaving again.

  “Since we were babies,” Reiji asked, and pulled out his phone. He began to type and then held it up to me. It was the official site of the royal family. He’d found the link to Iriogaki. Four families posed uncomfortably. Each woman held a black-haired baby on her lap. I recognized Goro immediately, because even as a baby, he’d worn glasses.

  “Can I see?” I held out my hand and Reiji gave me his phone. I studied each family, searching for similar facial features to help me identify each prince.

  Eventually, I used process of elimination to guess who was who. Wataru’s father had a long nose, like him, while he’d inherited his mother’s eyes. One man looked both bored and annoyed, while his wife stared proudly at the camera. Such expressive features could only mean these were Reiji’s parents.

  Which left Dai. The woman holding Dai didn’t have Saran features. She had dark skin and huge green eyes. “Where is your mother from?” I asked Dai.

  “Brazil,” he answered. “My father wanted to explore the rainforest. He met her in Rio and married her before she could change her mind.”

  “May I?” Mama asked and I glanced at Reiji, who nodded.

  My mother studied the picture before handing it back to Reiji. “I think I will go inside,” she said. “The sun is getting too warm.” When she stood, the princes went to their feet as well. She touched my shoulder as she left, leaving me staring after her in shock. The princes waited until the door closed behind her before sitting.

  Wataru spoke immediately. “Please eat.”

  While I didn’t regret my decision to search out a tiny piece of freedom today, I did regret bringing my breakfast with me. “No.”

  “Why not?” Reiji asked. He raked his hand through his hair and frowned. “Why pretend?”

  His words hurt and I was glad my face was covered so he couldn’t see how much. “I’m not pretending.”

  “Yes, you are,” Reiji argued.

  “Reiji…” Wataru interrupted.

  “It’s okay,” I said when I realized Wataru, Goro, and Dai wore similar, angry expressions. “Because I’m enjoying your company,” I went on. “It’s pretending…” Bitterness I hadn’t wanted to reveal colored the word. “It’s pretending that we’ll be anything besides friends. And we probably won’t be that after all is said and done.”

  “You don’t know that,” Reiji said. “I don’t know about all the other princes but we’re different.”

  I sighed. I supposed it was better to get this all out now.

  “I know why you’re here.” I said. “You’re hoping you’ll break the curse and my family will reward you.”

  “No!” Reiji stood so quickly his chair clattered to the ground. “No, that’s not it.”

  “It’s not?” I asked. “Then why are you here? Be honest. I’m okay with the answer being the money. It’s what pulls everyone here. Then there’s the people who want to see if the curse is real. You were right,” I said to Reiji. “You are different. Talking to you all…it’s easy. And you don’t treat me like I’m pathetic or disgusting.”

  “Because you aren’t,” Dai’s voice was firm and I touched my scarf to make sure it still covered my face.

  “I know your island is poor, and I know all about the struggles you face.” They stared at me and I sighed. “I know you’d take any money you received from my dowry back to Iriogaki.”

  My fingers shook as I straightened the scarf. Was I going to do this so soon? My head felt too heavy to hold up and I dropped it into my hands. This wasn’t fair. I liked them.

  “If I show you, you’ll run.” It was the truth.

  “We won’t,” Goro said. He smiled at me, dimples appearing even though his eyes were sad. “Do you know what I was afraid of when I arrived?”

  I shook my head. What did Goro have to fear? Being adorably handsome and sweet?

  “That as soon as you met my friends, you’d turn me away.”

  I leaned closer to the table. “Why would you think that?”

  Goro gestured toward his friends. “They’re much better looking than I am.”

  As one, the three princes groaned. “Shut up, Goro,” Reiji said.

  Wataru shook his head and Dai narrowed his eyes. “We already talked about this,” Dai replied.

  Not finding Goro handsome was as likely as not finding the cherry blossoms beautiful, but it reminded me no one is immune to self-doubt.

  “Did you sign the paperwork yesterday?” I asked. Every prince who met me signed a contract not to speak to the newspapers about what they saw and learned about me. From what I understood, Eziō, the blabbermouth prince who told the papers how hideous I was, currently had more than four hundred hours of community service to complete.

  “We did,” Wataru answered. “But we would never tell anyone what we saw.”

  “It’s not just about what you see.” I was becoming uncomfortable in the sun, overdressed as I was. “It’s about what I tell you. You see, the curse…Goro won’t see what Reiji sees, and neither of you will see what Wataru or Dai sees.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Dai said.

  “I’m not actually ugly,” I explained.

  “We know.” Reiji drew his eyebrows together in confusion. “If we fall in love with you, and kiss you, the curse will be broken.”

  “Yes, but the thing is, what you see is all in your head. When I look in the mirror. I see me. I see what I truly look like—the mix of my mother and father’s features.”

  Reiji’s mouth fell open. “That’s diabolical.”

  I laughed so hard I had to hold my scarf over my face. “Do you mind if we walk? I’m getting really warm here.”

  Wataru frowned. “You’re uncomfortable because you’re covered.”

  “I don’t like that you’re suffering just because you’re worried about what we’ll think of your looks,” Dai added.

  Pushing back from the table, I swayed a bit. Wataru took a pastry from the tray and handed it to me with a glare. I turned my back on him, pulled down my scarf and took a quick bite. When I turned back around, however, all four of them were frowning at me. Keeping the pastry clutched in my hand, I walked through the orchard to the shade beneath the tall evergreens. The air was much cooler here, but the ground was soggy and the wet grass had soaked through my shoes.

  We were silent as we wa
lked, though my mind was racing.

  “So whatever we see when we look at you is really all in our head,” Goro said. “What happens when you take photos?”

  “I don’t know. The only photos that exist of me are the ones from before the curse. I’ve tried, but I only see me. As I am. I want to see what everyone else sees, but then, no one sees the same thing, so…” I trailed off.

  “What does your family say?” Wataru asked.

  I approached one of the pine trees and found a drip of pitch that had hardened into an amber-colored tear drop. Long ago, I’d read a book about a girl who picked the pitch off of trees and chewed it like gum. I shivered remembering the flavor when my sisters and I had tasted the piney sap here. Avoiding their stares, I told them, “They won’t tell me.”

  They were silent for a moment and then Dai spoke. “That makes sense, I guess. Do they know that you can’t see what everyone else does?”

  “Yes,” I answered. “They know I see my real face.”

  Dai nodded and sauntered toward me. He stared at the place where I had been looking before removing his hand from his pocket to touch the pitch with his finger. He pinched both his fingers together and winced when they stuck.

  “You don’t have to show us,” Dai said quietly. “But I don’t want you to hide, either.” He scraped his finger on the tree to remove the pitch before wiping it on his pants. It wasn’t going to help, it would only collect fibers from his pants and leave a spot.

  “Hold on,” I said, jogging toward one of the cherry trees. I plucked a few new green leaves wet from dew. “Let me see your hand,” I said and he held it out.

  “Here.” Wataru took my pastry.

  “Thank you.” Using the leaves, I wiped the pitch from his fingers. “Better?”

  Dai pinched them together and nodded. “Yes.”

  As I dropped the leaves on the ground, he took my hand and held it in his. With a tug, he pulled me further into the forested part of our estate. The strange thing was, he didn’t release my hand. And I didn’t know what to do. I’d never held hands with anyone before and I started panicking that my hand was sweaty, or sticky, or chapped. Or anything that might cause him to let me go.

  Another hand took mine. Shocked, I glanced at Goro, who gave me a shy smile before threading his fingers between my own. Now I was doubly nervous. Not only were two people holding my hand, but I was left without a hand to ensure my covers stayed in place.

  I liked them so much.

  “I’ll show you my mouth.”

  Goro’s hand tightened and I stopped to take a deep breath before continuing. “If you want me to, I’ll remove my scarf, but you have to promise me something.”

  “Whatever you want,” Wataru said, coming from behind Goro and Dai and me to face me. “What can we do?”

  I couldn’t help but glance at Reiji, who wore every emotion on his face. “I’m going to close my eyes. So I can’t see your reactions. And then, I want you to go.”

  “No.” Wataru spoke, but it was Reiji who I was watching and who nodded. “Okay.”

  “Reiji, no,” Dai argued. “We won’t leave her when everyone else does. If nothing else, we can be her friends.”

  “You’re going to need time to deal with what you see, and I don’t want to watch while you do it. After I show you, go back to your rooms. Decide there if you want to talk to me again.”

  “We will,” Reiji answered firmly. He meant it, but every past experience told me he’d change his mind. “We’ll want to talk to you, and then we’ll want to take you on a date. So that’s what you should think about when we’re gone.”

  Huh?

  Goro and Dai squeezed and released my hands before facing me. “Reiji’s right,” Dai said. “You said you’d show me how to tune a piano. So I want you to show me. In fact, you can show me after lunch.”

  Oh no. No no. “You can’t say these kind of things!” I cried and my stupid voice trembled. “It will only make it worse.”

  “You’ll see,” Wataru said. “But you need time to trust us.”

  “You will,” Goro said.

  My throat tightened and my eyes burned. Do it. I didn’t want to, but I had no choice. It hurt now, or it hurt later, but either way, it hurt. Slowly, fingers shaking, I touched my scarf. “I’m closing my eyes now.” I squeezed them shut. “Please don’t gasp. If you can help it, please don’t say anything.” Every revelation I’d made in the past flashed behind my closed eyes. Somehow, my numb fingers found the edge of the scarf and I pushed it under my chin.

  Somewhere in the distance, birds called to each other. I heard traffic and the voice of a groundskeeper, but that was it. They’d done as I asked and had remained silent when I showed them my face.

  In my head, I counted the different bird calls and tried to distinguish one voice from another, giving the princes time to make their escape. After a moment, they walked away, branches and leaves snapping and cracking under their feet.

  Finally, I opened my eyes, but I didn’t glance over my shoulder. I fixed my stare on the forest ahead of me that I knew would give way to a pond. I was hot and tired and heartsick.

  Somewhere in Sara, a witch was living her life, probably laughing at the curse she’d put on me. If I had the magic she had, and my sisters had for that matter, I would curse her. Shaking my head from side to side, I tried to keep the rage building in my chest from erupting out of my mouth. No matter what my parents had done, what my family had done, we hadn’t deserved this. I didn’t deserve this.

  The freedom I tasted was sour in my mouth. With movements jerky and uncoordinated, I lifted my scarf over my chin and mouth.

  Then I turned my back on the beauty I knew awaited me if I kept walking, put my head down, and returned to my room.

  10

  Wataru

  I knew my friends would follow me into my room, but in the seconds after seeing Kumiko’s face and hurrying away, I wasn’t aware of anything but what I’d seen.

  Her words replayed in my head. “I’m not actually ugly.”

  Tripping up the steps to my room, I clutched at the bannister.

  “Keep going,” Reiji whispered behind me, voice tight. “Hurry.”

  I was going as fast as I could, but everything was a blur. Twice more I tripped. The second time, I hit my knees so hard, I knew I’d have bruises.

  Somehow, I made it to my room, opened the door and found a chair to collapse into. Then I dropped my head into my hands and wondered how the hell I kept myself from doing exactly what I promised myself I wouldn’t.

  Because I wanted to.

  I wanted to run away. My suitcase was still open, and in seconds, I could have that thing packed and be out the door. By the end of the day, I could be on Iriogaki and this would be nothing but a nightmare.

  Her face.

  God.

  Her face.

  It wasn’t her features, I couldn’t recall those, but as soon as her scarf had slipped below her chin, I’d been hit with a wave of revulsion. Thank God, Kumiko’s eyes had been closed.

  “It’s all in our head,” Dai said, but his normally deep voice was paper thin. It wavered and broke as he tried to go on. “It wasn’t her we saw, but the curse.”

  Reiji made a noise and with a thump, hit the ground. Head low, he took deep breaths as if he was trying to keep himself from passing out. Or throwing up. “She was right,” he said. “We thought we were so different. I want to leave.” He glanced up, face pale and lips white. “If I could go right now, I would.”

  “I know,” I whispered. Part of me wished I’d listened to Kumiko and hadn’t seen her face, but another, much smaller though still vocal part, yelled out that it would be just as awful no matter when it happened. “But we won’t.”

  “It’s not her,” Reiji said, and then, “Poor girl. No wonder she hides.”

  “Can you imagine?” It was the first time Goro spoke. Trembling, he took his glasses off and pressed the heels of his palms against his closed eyes. “She knows
what she shows us isn’t who she is. Guys, her whole life is made up of moments like the one we just had. Thank God she couldn’t see us.”

  Dai nodded. “If the witch who cursed her ever appeared again—” He threatened what I was sure everyone who knew Kumiko wanted to do. “And last night, I judged her family for eating without her…” He stared off into space, wrapped up in wherever his thoughts had gone.

  “So we agree,” I said, digging deep for confidence. “We stay.”

  “Of course,” Goro answered.

  “Yes,” Dai stated simply. “I won’t leave her now. Especially not now.”

  “We are her friends,” Reiji said. “We’ll prove it.”

  A soft knock on the door had us startling, showing just how off balance we were. I waited until my friends nodded and then stood. My body swayed and I held onto the back of the chair to get my bearings before going to answer it.

  Aoi, Miori, and Fuyumi stood outside. Miori chewed her lip nervously while Aoi’s sharp gaze studied us. Fuyumi crossed her arms. “She showed you.” A statement, not a question, but I nodded anyway. “Stupid. I’ll have a car meet you downstairs. Can you be ready in an hour?”

  “We’re not leaving,” Reiji answered quickly. “We’re regrouping.”

  Aoi and Miori wore similar shocked expressions, but Fuyumi narrowed her eyes. “Regrouping?”

  “Yes.” Goro wiped the lenses of his glasses on his shirt before putting them back on. “She asked us to leave her after she showed us. So we did.”

  “What did you say?” The normally quiet Miori pushed Fuyumi aside. “Why would she tell you to leave? And if she did, why are you still here?”

  “Before she showed us,” I answered. “We agreed to come back to our rooms immediately after she showed us. We didn’t say anything.”

  “Not a gasp? Not a scream?” Aoi asked.

  “No,” Dai replied.

  “And you’re staying?” Aoi went on.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “Huh.” Aoi lifted an eyebrow before turning back to her sisters. “Okay. So, they’re staying.”

  “Do you see the curse?” Goro asked. No one seemed closer to Kumiko than her sisters, and from what I’d heard, they were the ones who had been able to counter the witch’s curse. Was it possible that by doing so, it somehow didn’t affect them?