Falling Through Glass

by Barbara Sheridan

  The low growl that rumbled in Kae’s chest chilled Emmi, and she instinctively grabbed the back of his haori, hoping to stop him from saying or doing something he’d regret. He relaxed, and she rubbed his back a moment before removing her hand.

  Kaemon’s father cleared his throat. “Send your playmate back to wherever you found her then meet me in my quarters within the hour.” He left, shutting the sliding panel with a sharp bang.

  Kae grumbled and turned back to face Emmi. She looked up at him with a combination of worry and curiosity.

  “Why did you do that?” he asked. “Why did you rub your hand over my back?”

  Emmi shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess because my parents did that to each other. They didn’t get angry very often, but that was their signal for the other to stop and think before they said or did anything they’d regret later.”

  Emmi paused as the awkwardness of the situation engulfed her, making the brief silence uncomfortable.

  “So that was your father?”

  Kaemon smirked. “Yes. His Imperial Highness Prince Nakagawa.”

  Emmi shivered. No wonder he seemed so dictatorial—

  “Prince? Your father is a prince?”

  Kaemon nodded. “He is an adopted brother to the emperor.”

  “The emperor?”

  Kaemon smirked. “He’s the emperor as long as the rebel swine never get their way.”

  Emmi’s mind spun. For as long as she could remember, there had been a large portrait of the Emperor of Japan above the living room mantel in her grandparents’ house. Even in old family photos it was there.

  Kaemon’s father was a prince, the adopted brother of the current emperor and that meant…

  Shouldn’t she fall to her knees and bow? He practically had his hands in your pants, a sarcastic inner voice said. Don’t you think you’re a wee bit past the formality stage?

  “You’re an imperial prince?” Emmi asked in a shaking voice, hoping she’d gotten it all wrong.

  “Yes. And I’m going to be a prince awaiting his funeral if I don’t get to my father’s quarters in time. Come on.”

  He dragged her out of the secret passage and rushed through various rooms and corridors, causing the squeaky Nightingale Floor to sing.

  “I can’t go to the Imperial Palace looking like this.”

  “No, you can’t,” Kaemon said. “That’s why I’m leaving you here.”

  “No!”

  Kaemon stopped and glared at her. “I will not leave you to run loose here or through Kyoto. I’m taking you to the wife of the castle warden. I’ll return for you later.”

  Knowing that she didn’t have much choice in the matter, Emmi let him lead her to the spacious kitchens of Ninomaru Palace. There a bevy of maids dressed in matching salmon-colored kimonos with dark green obis bustled about preparing food to place on the dozens of ozen—meal trays—that sat waiting with small bowls and plates atop a series of long plank tables set against the far wall.

  While Kaemon didn’t acknowledge the attention that their entrance into the room attracted, Emmi noticed the many covert looks the young samurai got from the maids as they passed. The one he sought out, however, was an older lady dressed in a somewhat drab, dark gray kimono with a black and white obi.

  “Shinjuku-san,” Kaemon said in a singsong tone as he approached the woman from behind. “May I speak with you a moment?”

  She spun around, and Emmi felt like an impetuous child bothering an impatient mother.

  “I don’t have a moment!” She gestured around the kitchen. “Look at this! With Inaba going out, and Matsudaira coming in, and all of their retainers wanting to be fed, there isn’t enough time in eternity to get it all done, and you want to ask me favors.”

  “I didn’t say anything about favors,” Kaemon said, before that lost little boy look colored his expression almost as it had back at the Shinsengumi compound.

  Shinjuku-san clearly wasn’t buying it, and Emmi lowered her head to suppress a smile at the familiarity he allowed the older woman.

  “Well, there is a favor, but it’s a small, important favor,” Kaemon said, reaching around to grab the front of Emmi’s kimono and pull her forward.

  Shinjuku-san gave her a cursory look. “Do your problems ever not concern a girl?”

  Emmi shot the samurai a look, but he ignored it and addressed the older woman again.

  “Maeda-dono is a nice girl, but she hasn’t eaten today, and I must meet with my father. Or else.”

  “So you give me yet another mouth to feed. As if the two hundred I have now aren’t enough?”

  Emmi shook her head “I don’t want—”

  Kaemon interrupted. “But look at her—she’s small. She hardly needs to eat. You can give her the table scraps. Just let her stay here until I return.”

  Shinjuku-san’s laugh was clearly derisive. “Until you return from your father’s tonight or from Shimabara in a few days?”

  Anger stirred within Emmi, and she wanted to smack Kaemon not only for saying she deserved only scraps, but also for having the nerve to try to make her yet another one of his conquests.

  “Only until tonight. I promise.”

  Shinjuku-san dismissed it with a wave. “The sooner you leave, the sooner you return. Go.”

  Kaemon flashed a smile that reminded Emmi of what her father used to call Jake’s ‘ladykiller’ smile. She had no doubt Kaemon took full advantage of that smile’s effect whenever he could.

  “Stay out of the way. I’ll return for you soon,” he said to Emmi before rushing out the door.

  He left behind a bevy of sighing kitchen maids, an irritated matron and one very cheesed-off descendant of the legendary Toshiie Maeda.

  “Leave it to that boy not to even introduce you,” Shinjuku-san said pleasantly.

  Emmi looked at her, surprised by the friendly tone and the sudden warmth appearing in her brown eyes.

  “Having you wait here is no trouble, but I try not to encourage his bad habits.”

  “I take it that he has many bad habits?”

  Shinjuku-san grinned. “You haven’t known our Kaemon long, have you?”

  “No.”

  “His faults are many, but nothing more than those of any young man of wealth and power let loose in the world for the first time.”

  “I see,” Emmi replied flatly. She remembered the tales of arrogant stars and ‘suits’ that her father and Jake had had to deal with in Hollywood.

  Shinjuku-san laughed softly, and Emmi looked at her but didn’t reply. Instead, she simply followed the older woman.

  Chapter Nine

  “You see, Toshi? Yamanami told you there was nothing to be suspicious of, and Yamazaki confirmed it,” Shinsengumi Chief Kondo Isami told his vice-commander.

  Their senior investigator had just left, after giving his report on Kaemon and the girl. Kondo lay sideways on the tatami, propping his head on his hand.

  “Fujiwara-san took the girl to the Shoshidai, left her, and then went to the Imperial Palace to report it all to his father.”

  “And his father is exactly what has me bothered,” Hijikata grumbled as he cleaned the blade of his katana. He rested his sword across his lap and looked at his lifelong friend. “The elder prince has never made a secret of his political leanings, not even when the shogun exiled him and confined him to that dilapidated outbuilding at the Shokoku-ji Temple.”

  “But he was released and allowed to return to life outside the Buddhist order.”

  Hijikata huffed and returned his katana to its sheath. “Have you forgotten that he was released only a year ago? And how many of his friends and supporters were exiled or killed during the Ansei Purge? If I were him, I’d want my revenge on the house of Tokugawa.”

  Kondo sat up. His expression turned as serious as Hijikata’s. “You have a point, but many think highly of him, even those loyal to the shogunate.”

  Hijikata shrugged then turned to place his sword back on the lacquered sword rack beneath his sma
ller wakizashi.

  “All I’m saying is that the young one bears further watching, especially since he insists on keeping his true identity a secret outside the palace walls.”

  Kondo folded his arms into his sleeves. “I suppose I can’t argue with that point.” He summoned his page and had tea brought in. “Will you be accompanying me to Edo to recruit new men?”

  “And leave Yamanami in charge?”

  “He’s a capable officer, Toshi, and you need to get away and relax.”

  “I’ll think about it.” He sipped his tea. “You said last night that you have some promising prospects to interview?”

  “I do. Including one Kawashima Daishiro.”

  “Kawashima? He’s willing to leave his position in Edo to come here?”

  “It’s possible.”

  Hijikata’s reply was a scowl.

  * * * *

  Prince Asahiko paced the length of his reception room in the Imperial Palace. “Mori Takachika sent one of his retainers to approach me today. I was too busy to receive him and will remain too busy to receive him until I know exactly what Choshu’s plans are.”

  He stopped and faced his son. “You have important business to attend to, Kaemon. And, while I realize the best place for you to get the information we need is in Shimabara, your mind needs to stay on the business of the Court. You cannot waste precious time by fornicating with servants in the halls.”

  “Honored Father, I do take what I do for you seriously. And I was trying to get information from the girl, but… I was mistaken about her…”

  “So you decided to pass the time in more pleasant ways.”

  “No—”

  Asahiko held up his hand for silence and began pacing again. “I heard you had trouble in the Licensed Quarters earlier this week.”

  “It couldn’t be helped. A group of the Choshu attacked one of the courtesans-in-training at Narihisa-ro. The kamuro was a child of only ten. I had to get involved.”

  The elder prince stopped and stared at Kae. “What business did you have in a third-class house like that? The men with the information we want wouldn’t be there.” He paced again. “You do realize that the men of Choshu han guard this palace. They have acquaintances from their home domain arriving in Kyoto every day. All it takes to spell disaster for us is for one of them to recognize your description.”

  “Understood,” Kae said, bowing deeply. He looked up to see his father sink down onto a low, painted chest that held maps. Throwing protocol to the winds, Kae rushed over. “Are you ill? Do you need a doctor?”

  Asahiko shook his head. “I’m tired.” He gestured for Kae to sit beside him. “Japan is on the brink of death, Kaemon, and I want to hold it off as long as possible.”

  He rubbed his eyes and exhaled a weary sigh before continuing. “You and I have a responsibility to be the voices of reason in Emperor Komei’s ear. We need to find a way to voice that same reason to young Prince Mutsuhito, because one day he’ll be emperor, and if the rebels have their way, it will be long before he’s ready to assume the role.”

  Prince Asahiko placed his hand on Kae’s shoulder. “This incident with the kamuro and the servant girl prove to me that you are too much like your mother, Kaemon. Men such as we can never indulge the whims of our hearts. Never. Remember that.”

  Kae nodded. “I will remember, Honored Father. You have my word.”

  Chapter Ten

  The meal that the wife of the castle warden served was far from a plate of table scraps. In fact, if Emmi had been wearing her favorite jeans instead of the loose kimono and hakama, she’d have had to undo the top button. Emmi raised her hands when Shinjuku-san tried to coax her into another sweetened rice ball for dessert.

  “Just one more. After all, Kae-san likes his women with some meat on their bones.”

  Emmi gasped. “We’re not— I’m not one of his women. I’m far from home and lost, and he was kind enough to help me.”

  The older woman gave her an enigmatic smile in return then began collecting the used plates. Emmi hurried to help and followed Shinjuku-san to the trough in an adjacent room where the kitchenware was washed.

  Twin girls, who couldn’t have been more than twelve, were working like mad, scrubbing pots and woks, bowls and cups.

  “I’ll stay and help them if that’s all right with you, Shinjuku-san.”

  “You are a guest. This is their job.”

  “Please?” Emmi asked. “I’d like to repay you for helping me.”

  “All right,” Shinjuku-san said after some consideration. “If you’re not done when Kae-san returns, I’ll send for you.”

  One of the girls helped Emmi tie her kimono sleeves back and then whispered something to her twin. They both giggled.

  “What’s so funny? Come on, you can tell me.”

  “We think you make a very pretty boy dressed that way.”

  Emmi laughed. “Thank you. Why don’t you two sit for a while and let me wash this mess?”

  The girls shook their heads. “No,” the taller of the two said. “Shinjuku-dono will be angry if we don’t work.”

  “We must work,” the shorter girl said. “She bought us.”

  “She bought you?”

  “From Shimabara,” the girl said.

  “Bought from Shimabara,” Emmi repeated softly, unable to believe that these little girls had been bought from the sex district. She gripped the edge of the sink trough, afraid that she might throw up. What kind of person was Mrs. Shinjuku really? For that matter, what type of person was Kaemon? What other sorts of “favor” did he ask of the older woman?

  “Shinjuku-san heard that we were going to be sold to customers, so she had her husband buy us from the master. We live here and can help with the work after we come from the Temple school.”

  “Oh,” Emmi said. She was relieved she’d been mistaken about the motivation but still hated the thought that these kids had to work in a kitchen to repay the favor.

  It made her realize just how far from home she truly was and how she might never again have the everyday comforts or security of the life she’d taken for granted back in the twenty-first century.

  As she helped wash the dishes, Emmi did her best to translate into Japanese some of the lame jokes her brother used to bug her with when they were younger. The jokes didn’t translate all that well, but the twins, Chidori and Namiji, found them amusing enough to be entertained.

  However, they stopped laughing and bowed low the instant Shinjuku-san came into the washroom.

  “Get up. Get up,” she said. “You two can go out and enjoy the sunshine before dinner.”

  The twins thanked her, bowed from the waist, and bowed again to Emmi. “Thank you, Emiko-dono.”

  “Thank you for being so nice to me.”

  They ran off giggling. Emmi set the last dish aside, dried her hands and offered the older woman a deep bow. “I owe you an apology, Shinjuku-san.”

  “Apology? Why?”

  “I told the girls to let me do their work mainly because I thought you were being cruel to them. When they told me you had bought them from Shimabara, well… I’m sorry for what I was thinking.”

  Shinjuku-san studied her for a long time, and Emmi felt like a total fool. The older woman would probably get one of those scary guards to take her away to a dungeon until Kaemon came back.

  If Kaemon came back.

  “You have a caring heart,” Shinjuku-san finally said. “Kae-san needs someone like you in his life.”

  An invisible punch hit Emmi dead in the stomach, and she could barely make her lips form words. She shook her head.

  “No. It isn’t going to happen. He’s a prince, and I’m not…from around here. I don’t think I’ll be here long.”

  Shinjuku-san smiled another one of those enigmatic smiles.

  “For however long you are here, it will be a good thing for him.” She gave Emmi a gentle prod toward the door. “Come. I’ll show you where things are. Then we will sit in the garden and
watch the children play.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Kae was on his way back to Nijo Castle when a familiar young servant girl ran up to him.

  “Aneko-han…wishes to…see…you at once,” she said between gasping breaths, as if she’d been running all over Kyoto to find him. She handed him a note.

  My mirror is missing. You have been enchanted with it of late. If you have it, please return it at once. I will make the inconvenience up to you any way you like. I also have some news from a distance for you.

  News from a distance usually meant news pertaining to the rebel ronin infiltrating the city. Kae folded the crisp rice paper and tucked it into his kimono sleeve.

  “Tell her I will stop by later tonight if I have time.”

  On the verge of tears, the girl fell to her knees in the center of the street. “Please, honored sir. She told me that if I didn’t find you and bring you back at once, she would have me beaten again.”

  She looked up, and Kae fell prey to her frightened eyes. He reached down, took hold of her arm and coaxed her to her feet. He took some money from the pouch inside his sleeve and gave it to the girl.

  “Aneko-san asked me to return something of hers that I borrowed. You get yourself something to eat while I retrieve it, and I will meet you by the Sanjo Bridge very soon.”

  * * * *

  Emmi stared across the wide pond at the twins skimming tiny stones across the water and ran her fingers through the thick grass beneath her. She wondered what had happened between Kaemon and his father. It was probably something unpleasant, judging from the older Nakagawa’s tone and demeanor.

  “Think of the demon and he appears,” Shinjuku-san teased before tapping Emmi on the shoulder.

  Emmi looked up and followed the older woman’s gaze to see Kae approaching. He looked so impressive striding toward them with his back straight, his gait sure and balanced like one long-schooled in the martial arts. His katana and wakizashi bobbed at his hip. The ends of his open haori blew slightly in the breeze while the kimono he wore beneath gaped slightly with his movements, revealing a flash of his well-toned chest. As he drew nearer, Emmi noticed his dark eyes instinctively scanning the surrounding area for any signs of trouble, even though there was unlikely to be any this far inside the compound.