Falling Through Glass

by Barbara Sheridan

  Shinjuku-san bowed. “Of course.”

  * * * *

  “I think he left, child,” Mrs. Shinjuku told Emmi. “My husband went to report to the Shoshidai, and I have no idea where Nakagawa-san is. I didn’t see him in the kitchens where he usually sits.”

  Emmi sighed and sipped her tea. She swirled the last of it in the small, handleless cup then looked up.

  “I wonder what I should do, then. About a place to stay. I have no money and nowhere to go…”

  Emmi remembered her pendant. Her father had given it to her when she was tiny. She’d worn it every day since, and it was like a part of her. The thought of selling it made her ill all over again, but what choice did she have? Forgive me, Daddy.

  Emmi removed the pendant and showed it to Shinjuku-san.

  “Do you know of any place I might sell this? It’s been in my family a very long time, but it’s all I have of value.”

  The older woman took the necklace and studied it. “It is beautiful, possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Emmi tried to smile through the pain flooding her soul. “That’s our family crest on the front, and the dragonfly on top of it is just like the one Toshiie had on his golden battle helmet. On the back, you can see the names of the eldest sons and the eldest daughters that they gave the pendant to. I’m the last one. The last one…”

  Shinjuku-san handed the pendant back to her. “You cannot sell this. You will stay here tonight. Tomorrow, I may be able to have you kept on as part of the staff. If not, I’ll help you find work.”

  “I hate to impose on you.”

  The older woman shook her head then brushed the stray strands of hair back from Emmi’s face as a concerned aunt might. “It’s no hardship.”

  Emmi placed the pendant back in Shinjuku-san’s hand and closed her own over it. “I want you to hold on to this until I can repay your kindness.”

  “That isn’t necess—”

  “It is to me.”

  Shinjuku-san nodded. “I will lock this away. Why don’t you go to the bathhouse and relax in the tub for a while? I’ll send one of the twins with something clean for you to wear.”

  Although she knew it wasn’t quite proper for this era, Emmi got up and hugged the older woman. “Thank you.”

  As she walked the short distance from the kitchen to the bathhouse, Emmi let down her hair and began untying the knots Kaemon had used to fasten the hakama. Emmi stepped inside, set the door latch and allowed the hakama to fall to the floor. Kicking the garment aside, she undid the knot in the obi fastening the yukata, and froze when someone—a man—cleared his throat from behind her.

  Emmi spun around, clutching the yukata closed.

  “Who’s there?” she demanded, scanning the dimly lit room until she saw the wooden screen in the right corner.

  Kaemon stepped out wearing only a fundoshi, the Japanese equivalent of underwear that resembled a Native American breechclout. It was a red fundoshi, no less.

  “What are you doing here? Shinjuku-san said you’d left.”

  “Obviously, she was mistaken.”

  Emmi pointed to the door. “Go. Now.”

  “I was here first.”

  “Well, I’m here now.”

  A grin played upon his lips. “What will you do if I choose not to leave?”

  “I’ll pull off your fundoshi.”

  He laughed and came to stand before her. “Do it.”

  Damn. He would be the type to call her bluff.

  A knock sounded on the door, followed by the voice of one of the twins. “Emiko-dono. We have your things, but the door is locked.”

  Emmi motioned for Kaemon to get behind the screen. He shook his head no. Emmi grumbled, then went to the door and opened it just far enough to grab the fresh sleeping yukata.

  “We can help you wash your hair.”

  “N-no. I’m fine, but thank you.” Emmi closed the door and placed the clothing on the stool.

  She turned and promptly bumped into Kae, who’d snuck up behind her.

  “I can help you wash your hair,” he said, toying with the loose strands. “Or your back,” he added, allowing his hand to slip down and caress her spine. He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Or I can wash your front…” His voice trailed off as he ran the tip of his tongue along the side of her neck.

  A flash of heat shot through her and made her squirm, but Emmi had the presence of mind to place her hands on his chest and push him back.

  “Oh no you don’t.”

  “What is that?” he asked, prying her yukata farther apart with his fingers.

  Emmi groaned and pulled the edges of the yukata together again. “It’s my underwear. You have your fundoshi and I have my…bra and panties.”

  “Brrra… Pan-tees,” he said.

  Her face flushed. Emmi nodded. He made it sound so…obscene, yet exciting.

  “That’s what we call ’em.”

  Kae stepped close again and gently tugged the edges of the yukata again. Try as Emmi might, she found she could not control her traitorous fingers, which simply let him.

  I told you guys this was a bad idea, Emmi silently reminded her fingers as Kaemon slid his large palms across her lace-encased breasts. She bit back the moan that tried to escape when he teased her further by running his index finger all along the top edge of the bra cups.

  “You shouldn’t do that.”

  “You don’t like it?”

  “I do. I like it too much.”

  He chuckled and bent down, allowing his tongue to retrace the trail his finger had made moments before. She groaned.

  “You have to stop. Please.”

  He pulled back and looked at her. His dark eyes glowed with desire as his hands settled upon her hips. Emmi shivered when his fingers drifted down to tease her skin just beneath the edges of the panties.

  “You don’t want me to stop, do you?”

  “No, and that’s why I need you to stop.”

  His grip on her tightened, and he brushed against her. The thin layers of fabric separating them did even less to conceal the hardness of his erection than the multiple layers of clothing had earlier.

  “Do not take me for a fool, woman. You are no virgin. Not with the way you kissed me today, not with the way you let me touch you now.”

  Emmi’s mouth grew dry as morality and primal need began to war within her. She slid her hands to Kaemon’s strong shoulders in a vain attempt to keep him at bay.

  “I’m not playing you for a fool. I’ve touched guys before, let them touch me, but I am still a virgin. Things are different where I’m from, but… I wanted it to be right…to be special…”

  Kaemon stared down at her. Even in the dim light from the floor lantern, he could see undeniable truth shining bright in the depths of her warm brown eyes. She hadn’t been bedded. She was eager for more yet afraid of the consequences.

  Nevertheless, he was a man, a prince of the blood. He could have any woman in the land in any way he wished. Even if she was a daughter of the Maeda, no daimyo had the power to deny him.

  He wanted this woman with every fiber of his being.

  And he would have her.

  He pulled her fiercely against him. He slid his fingers up her back, her neck, tangled them in her hair and tugged her head back to kiss and nip the flesh of her throat. She whimpered as he worked his way down, kissing and licking the delicate skin just above her strange undergarments.

  He lifted his head, turned his attention to her mouth. She parted her lips without any coaxing. Her tongue sought his first, and she wound her arms tightly around his neck, kissing him back so fervently that his body ached and strained against the confinement of the fundoshi.

  He kissed her throat again. She sighed his name. The words drifted in a soft, mewling sound. He kissed his way back up her neck and pulled her into a crushing embrace. She grew bold, flicked her tongue across his shoulder.

  She whispered close to his ear, “I’m afraid. Promise you won�
�t hurt me.”

  Kaemon’s inborn sense of duty and obligation reined in his lust. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring himself to take what should be his. For the life of him, he didn’t know why.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Emmi gaped in surprise when Kae pulled away and began throwing on his clothes. “What’s wrong? What did I do?”

  “I don’t want a woman who thinks I take my pleasure from her pain.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  It was too late. He left the bathhouse in a rush, banging the door behind him.

  Her body was still warm and tingly from his kiss. Emmi breathed a sigh, then locked the door and undressed. She slipped into the large wooden tub, not caring that the fire beneath the bathhouse had died down, allowing the water to cool. It was just the kind of wake-up call she needed, and she’d be damned if she made the same mistake again.

  * * * *

  Kae didn’t take his usual route into the Imperial Palace. He went via the direct route and straight to the main entrance gate. He put up with the Choshu guards’ critical inspection of his identity papers, though it galled him to do so. If it were the last thing he did, he would see to it that the dogs of that domain were removed from Kyoto once and for all.

  Far too often they tried to allow their leaders to sneak in and beg an audience with the emperor or someone close to him. They succeeded enough to bend the ear of Nakayama Tadayasu, the maternal grandfather to the emperor’s twelve-year-old heir, Mutsuhito.

  Unfortunately, there was no empirical proof, only speculation on the part of his father. But Kae completely trusted his father’s judgment in the matter. As long as Mutsuhito was a child, he would need a guardian—a regent to advise and counsel him—should he happen to ascend the throne. And to whom would that illustrious honor go? Nakayama-sama, of course. Kae suspected Nakayama might be quite generous with those who’d made a positive impression upon him—such as those rebel swine.

  Kae welcomed the anger that heated his blood as he walked along the covered walkway at the rear of the palace. At least it was beginning to extinguish the painful desire that had plagued him earlier.

  Catching the rustle of silk from the shadows, Kae slowed his gait and placed his hand on the hilt of his katana. He sensed the follower closing in and spun, unsheathing his weapon as he did so. Instinctively he began his swing high, aiming for a beheading, and just barely stopped short of slicing off the top of Crown Prince Mutsuhito’s head.

  Kaemon dropped his arm to his side then fell to his knees, bowing forward. “Forgive me!” He looked up when he felt the prince’s slender hand touch his shoulder.

  “I could demand that you commit seppuku, cousin.”

  “And I will, my Lord.” He reached for the tanto tucked into his belt. The prince stopped him.

  “If you slice your belly, then who will be my friend and talk with me when I can’t sleep?”

  Kaemon relaxed and settled back on his heels, tucking away the tanto and replacing his katana in the saya.

  He made a show of thinking. “Hmmm, perhaps your grandfather, Nakayama-sama? Or perhaps his friend Katsura-san?”

  The prince made a most unpleasant face, and Kae couldn’t hold in his smile. Mutsuhito laughed and sat facing his cousin.

  “You are my only true friend, Kaemon. Everyone else is always telling me how I must behave, and how I may talk, and what to eat and what to wear, and they make me practice my writing over and over and over until my fingers hurt.” He reached out to touch Kaemon’s hand. “You’re the only one who treats me as a friend. You’re the only one who lets me run and laugh.”

  “You’re a good friend to me as well.”

  “Will we always be friends, Kaemon?”

  “Always,” Kae said sincerely. He grinned. “I heard a joke in Shimabara the other day…”

  * * * *

  The mirror could still be in that secret passage.

  That was the thought that haunted Emmi’s mind the entire next day. She hoped that one of the duties she eagerly accepted from Shinjuku-san would take her back to that hall where the entrance to that secret passage lay, but none did. As the day wore on, she grew more agitated about it.

  She needed that mirror. But how to get it? She couldn’t go sneaking around the squeaky-floored private residence halls without a reason, and she doubted that her princely ‘friend’ was going to make an appearance any time today.

  What could she do?

  She was helping sort the guards’ laundry when she remembered the maid who she was on sorting duty with had been one of the ones who kept stealing glances at Kaemon.

  “Akiko, does Nakagawa-sama come to visit every day?”

  The girl sighed wistfully. “No, sometimes we don’t see him for weeks.”

  Lovely. She so did not have weeks. Her attention was drawn again when Akiko sighed a very long sigh.

  Akiko picked up a familiar brown haori. “This is his,” she said, tracing the outline of the crest on the back of the garment.

  Realizing that Akiko was staring at her, Emmi dismissed her remark with a wave of her hand, picked up another haori and began to examine the inside of the sleeves as she’d seen Akiko do. There was a folded piece of paper in the sleeve of the next garment.

  “What do we do with this?”

  Akiko shook her head. “Those men. I don’t know how they get around Kyoto with the way they forget their papers.” She gestured to a small box on a shelf to the left. “Put it there with anything else you find. Shinjuku-san will go through them later and return them to their owners.” She giggled softly. “It’s too bad that Nakagawa-sama didn’t leave anything in his jacket.”

  Akiko held Kaemon’s haori up to her cheek one more time then tossed it onto the pile of things to be washed.

  Emmi wasn’t sure if she should be bothered or amused.

  * * * *

  Later that evening, Emmi walked alone in the garden adjacent to the Shinjukus’ quarters. Emmi wondered if she might be able to go in search of the mirror when who should appear behind her but the devil himself.

  His velvety voice reached out and caressed her from behind. “I could have been another assassin. You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

  Emmi stopped walking and turned. Why did he have to look so damn good in the moonlight? Or any light…

  “I heard that the patrols have been increased.”

  “Then you don’t need a chaperone?” he asked with that oddly appealing lost little boy look in his eyes.

  “I do if he can chaperone me back to my mirror.”

  “I can’t.”

  Emmi folded her arms across her middle and gave him a hard look. “Why not? I need that mirror to get home. You know I do.”

  “How can that get you home? You are a demon from the other world, aren’t you?”

  Emmi lifted her hands in frustration and walked away. “Will you stop with the oni business already? I am the same as you, except I’m from the future!”

  Emmi gave Kae a dirty look when he grabbed her shoulder and spun her around to face him.

  “Future?”

  “I told you that yesterday, remember?”

  Kaemon placed his free hand on her shoulder as well. “When in the future?”

  “Two thousand and sixteen,” Emmi said softly. “Around a hundred and fifty years in the future.”

  “One hundred fifty,” he muttered. “Will everyone in Japan speak the gaijin tongue then?”

  “A lot will be able to as a second language. I’m not from Japan. My parents are—were—third generation Japanese Americans. My ancestors left Kaga after—” Emmi stopped short and lowered her head. Way to go, Em-chan.

  Kaemon tilted her head up with a tender prod of his fingers. “They left Kaga after what?”

  “After Takehito had a falling out with his brother,” Emmi said, omitting the fact that the brothers’ disagreement was a result of the fourteenth Lord Maeda publicly aligning himself with the rebels’ side after the battle of Toba-Fush
imi in 1868. Her ancestors’ defection was yet another death knell for the Tokugawa.

  Kaemon considered what Emmi said for a long time, but thankfully he didn’t question her for more details. He dropped his hands to his sides and began walking. Emmi went with him.

  “So, will you go get my mirror from that passageway?”

  “It isn’t there.”

  Emmi stopped and grabbed his sleeve. “What do you mean it isn’t there? Where is it?”

  “I gave it back to Aneko. It is rightfully hers, and she wanted it.”

  “Who the hell is Aneko?”

  “She’s a tayuu in Shimabara.”

  “You’d better go get it.”

  “I will not.”

  “Then I will,” Emmi said, whipping around and hurrying back toward the castle.

  Emmi yelped when Kae grabbed her by the obi and spun her around. “You will not go to Shimabara.”

  Watch me, Emmi fumed silently before pulling away and going back inside.

  * * * *

  Emmi tossed and turned for what seemed like hours on the futon in the small room she shared with the twins. She had to get that mirror. “But how?” Emmi whispered to the darkness a moment before realizing that the shorter of the twins, Chidori, was looking at her. Emmi motioned for her to go back to sleep then turned on her side facing away. Within seconds, her conscience started fighting with her desire to get home.

  She can help. She has to know a way out!

  I don’t want to get her in trouble! Sure, the Shinjukus are nice, but if this girl breaks some major house rule because of me, she’ll be the one to suffer!

  The mirror is your ticket home.

  Home.

  With a lump in her throat, Emmi turned back over. Chidori was still watching her. Biting the inside of her cheek to distract herself from her nagging conscience, Emmi motioned for the girl to come closer.

  “I have a favor to ask,” Emmi whispered. “I need to get something of mine that was lost. It’s in Shimabara, but I don’t know how to get out of Nijo without anyone seeing me. Do you know a way?”