Kimiko and the Accidental Proposal

by Forthright

  He crossed to Kimiko, guessing it would be easiest to explain his role if he understood Kimiko’s place in their future. Quen said, “The pack needs you to do a very important job, Ever. As my representative, you’ll listen to Kimiko say her words, then hear my answers.”

  Wide eyes blinked. “Why?”

  “We are going to trade promises, and in keeping them, our den will be built.”

  “Where?”

  “Our den?” Quen placed his hand over his heart. “Here first, then in the place Kimiko lives, high on a hill, with many stairs and a great tree.”

  Kimiko made a tiny noise. She seemed surprised. Hadn’t anyone told her the terms Hisoka had negotiated on their behalves? In as soothing a voice as he could manage, he said, “Kimiko will take my name, and she will bring me into her home.”

  “Me, too?” asked Ever.

  “Of course. You’re mine.”

  “Uncle?”

  “Yes, I think so.” Quen couldn’t imagine a den without Laud.

  “And Rise?”

  “Yes, Rise is ours as well. But Kimiko will be especially mine, and I will be especially hers. That’s what it means to have a bondmate. One for always.”

  Ever considered this with furrowed brows. “Not me?”

  “You’re my brother,” said Quen. “Brothers can’t be bondmates, but you can be my representative.”

  The little boy turned to Kimiko. “I Bruvver’s res-sent-tive.”

  She smiled softly. “Eloquence must love you very much.”

  “Course!” He puffed out his chest. “We’s bruvvers.”

  Eloquence thought it best to press the point, both for Ever’s sake and so that the whole clan would know how matters stood. “Yes, we’re brothers, and that will make Kimiko your sister.”

  Ever held out his arms, and Kimiko took him.

  “And when we have pups,” Quen continued, “you will be their uncle.”

  “Me?” he squeaked, but his tail lifted and began a tentative wag. “Pups?”

  Eloquence felt the shift in Kimiko’s posture—assertive, possessive. Without hesitation, he relaxed into an attentive pose, making it clear that the answer wasn’t his to give. Ever picked up on the change because he nuzzled Kimiko’s chin, whining as he worked up his very best “pudding please” to date.

  “I hear you.” Kimiko smiled crookedly. “But let’s take things one step at a time, Ever. Promises first. Pups later.”

  FORTY-FOUR

  Torn

  Tenma was feeling very much out of his depth. Having never really had close friends before, he wasn’t sure if he could be a good one to Inti. So far this evening, most of his impulses had been to correct and scold. Like a picky old lady. But he wasn’t trying to tame or change Inti. He wanted to understand his new roommate. That’s why they’d made plans to hang out together, from after classes until curfew.

  “Aren’t your feet cold?” asked Tenma.

  Inti swarmed up Tenma’s body like a squirrel up a tree. Claiming a seat on his shoulders, the crosser wriggled until his feet were stuffed down the front of Tenma’s coat. Arms and tail settled snuggly. Tenma knew he looked a sight, strolling down the street with a furry tail for a muffler and a monkey-boy for a hat.

  “Good?” he asked.

  “Warm,” agreed Inti.

  “You have shoes, you know.”

  Inti gave the low rumble Tenma now recognized as the Inti equivalent of “ick.” Even the slight glaze of ice on Keishi’s sidewalks hadn’t convinced his roommate to use the shoes New Saga provided.

  Tenma decided not to mind all the staring, the smiles, and the shy nods. People needed to get used to seeing Amaranthine around town. The Emergence was about living openly. Integration needed to spread beyond the classroom.

  Nice in theory. But Inti’s unconventional behavior kept Tenma on his toes. He’d had to apologize a lot for his roommate, who was prone to touch, taste, or take things without invitation.

  “How about a quick lesson,” Tenma suggested.

  “Again?”

  “A little one. About sitting in public.” Tenma pointed to a park bench. “It’s quieter here, so this is a good spot.”

  “Inti will listen.” He slid from his perch and bowed. “Teach me, sensei.”

  Tenma laughed and took a seat. “Humans have this thing called polite distance.”

  Inti cheerfully joined him, pressing snug against his side. “Inti is polite.”

  “Too close, Inti. Humans aren’t always comfortable with direct contact. What feels most natural to you may be an imposition for them.”

  “You do not smell alarmed.”

  Tenma smiled. “We’re friends. This lesson is about strangers. Shall I demonstrate?”

  In a barefoot crouch on the bench, Inti watched with bright-eyed interest as Tenma backed up a few steps, then approached. “May I sit here?”

  “Sit, sit, sit.”

  Tenma left plenty of room between them. “Some people will place items beside them as barriers, like a shopping bag or a book. They’re signaling a preference, but even if they don’t, still give them room.”

  “Sitting with strangers.” Inti studied the gap between them. “What about friends.”

  “That depends on how close you are.”

  Inti lifted a finger. “Classmate, but not Tenma or Quen or Isla.”

  Tenma stood, once more backing off and coming forward. “Here you are, Inti! May I join you?”

  “Sit, sit, sit, friend.” Inti was enjoying himself.

  While Tenma still preserved a polite distance, he changed his body language, slouching back and leaning closer until their shoulders bumped. “How’ve you been?”

  Inti grinned. “Hungry.”

  Lesson over. They were back to the main theme of their evening out. Tenma hadn’t been able to think of a single form of entertainment that might appeal to Inti … except food. So they’d been wandering through Keishi, stopping frequently to sample fast food and street food and the mysterious delights found in vending machines.

  Inti leapt to his cozy perch on Tenma’s shoulders. “You still have coins?”

  “Plenty.”

  “Tenma is rich?”

  “Beyond your wildest dreams.”

  Poking at Tenma’s cheek, Inti asked, “Is Tenma teasing?”

  “Yes, I’m teasing. But I won’t run out of money for a while yet, even at the rate you eat.”

  They found a crepe shop, at which point Tenma learned that Inti was violently opposed to eating banana-anything. On principle.

  “Defying stereotypes?” Tenma asked.

  “I like what I like,” he mumbled around a mouthful of strawberries and cream.

  Tenma definitely appreciated moments like this, when Inti abandoned pretense enough to use personal pronouns. One thing he’d learned at school was how important nuances were to Amaranthine. Little things communicated big ideas—like caution, trust, and friendship.

  “Where would you like to go?” Tenma didn’t even try to hide his curiosity. “I mean, what do you usually do when you go out at night?”

  Inti licked the last traces of cream from his fingertips and jumped onto Tenma’s shoulders. Tapping the top of his head, he said, “Take me to trees. Someplace to run and climb.”

  At the next street corner, Tenma turned homeward, since the best place would be the forest behind their dormitory. Although it was Starmark land, there were no fences or barriers. Maybe some of the Kith in the shelter would like to join Inti in running wild.

  Only they didn’t quite make it to campus.

  All of a sudden, Inti’s tail whipped out from around Tenma’s shoulders. Overbalanced, he staggered, then made a grab for his roommate’s ankles. Inti was standing on his shoulders, peering off along a darkened side street. Tenma wanted to ask what was happening, but something in the crosser’s attitude told him this wasn’t a silly game.

  Inti dropped to the ground and skittered off a short distance, then returned to dance in a circl
e around Tenma. “Too late, too late,” he muttered. “Too slow.”

  Thinking it must be safe to speak since Inti was, Tenma nonetheless kept his voice low. “What’s wrong?”

  The only answer he received was more bouncing and fidgeting. Inti’s eyes were perfectly round, and he’d begun gnawing on the end of his tail.

  Hauling him close and caging him against his body, Tenma spoke into Inti’s ear. “Tell me.”

  “A trigger. A trap. The hunter is coming.”

  “You mean the trackers?”

  Inti’s softly chanted negative was a like a desperate prayer.

  A finger pressed to Tenma’s mouth, begging for silence. Inti’s other hand dove into Tenma’s clothing, picking an inner pocket and coming up with a precious fold of paper. He shuffled back a step and, to Tenma’s horror, ripped Quen’s sigil in two, letting the halves flutter to the ground.

  Awareness slammed into Tenma, clawing away his composure. Malicious, greedy, and closing fast—if the oncoming Amaranthine was a hunter, they’d be easy prey.

  Inti’s tail snaked around his arm, squeezing tight. Up on tiptoe, he whispered in Tenma’s ear. “We need to run. We need to hide.”

  “Yes.”

  “You are too slow.”

  For a fleeting moment, Tenma thought Inti would leave him behind.

  His fear must have shown on his face. Inti’s hand brushed his cheek. “My turn, my friend. I’m stronger than I look.”

  A disorienting swoop sent Tenma’s already-queasy stomach plunging, and he found himself clinging helplessly to Inti, who sprang recklessly along the rooftops.

  FORTY-FIVE

  Temptation

  Akira was pleased to be included in the much smaller group that made the trip to Kikusawa Shrine. It sounded like this pledge thingie was usually pretty private, with only the representatives necessary to make it official. But tonight’s plan allowed the Miyabes to offer a return of hospitality to the Starmarks.

  Argent had joined the group quizzing Akio Miyabe about the shrine’s history and treasury. Sinder was among them, and it was pretty plain that they wanted a full tour once Kimi got around to kissing Quen.

  Stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets, Akira shambled along toward the house, where Suuzu was overseeing some kind of last minute details. Probably preening.

  He reached their front door just as it opened. Jumping aside, he let the Miyabe women pass in a soft rustle of fancy clothes, twinkling hair ornaments, and fur-trimmed capes. They chattered and giggled and wafted a heady blend of girly scents.

  Must be almost time.

  Suuzu stepped outside. The closing door cut off most of the light, leaving them in the dark. But the phoenix’s eyes were as keen as ever, despite the lack of light. He closed in on Akira, straightening and fussing with a focus that betrayed his state of mind.

  “What gives?” Akira asked. “You can’t be nervous for Kimi. She’s got this whole group handled, especially Quen.”

  “He yields gladly.”

  “And I’m happy for him, but I’m worried about you. Seriously, what gives?” Akira poked his best friend. “You’ve been weird ever since the thing about Kimi’s family treasure.”

  “Yes.” Suuzu lifted him and launched upward, rising high above the moonlit courtyard before coming to roost in Kusunoki’s branches.

  Akira didn’t protest. Suuzu must need more privacy before answering. He wasn’t surprised with the phoenix traced matching sigils on their palms. This conversation was for their ears only.

  And still, Suuzu didn’t speak.

  From this vantage, mingling guests were hidden from view by leaves or the canopies where hot coals and warm drinks kept the cold night at bay. Akira could see Gingko playing with Kyrie and Ever, chasing along garden paths lit by stone lanterns. It was past their bedtime, and Kyrie wouldn’t last much longer, even bundled as he was. The little guy didn’t like cold weather.

  Suuzu was back to arranging—his hair, his coat, his scarf. “Are you warm enough?”

  “It’s not so bad, but I gotta say, this Amaranthine cloth is kind of … blowy.”

  “You are cold.”

  “It’s fine. Honest.” Akira said, “We should take a picture later to show Sis. And Juuyu.”

  “Hmm.” Suuzu did his best to shelter Akira with his body. “You wear my colors well.”

  Akira was getting worried. “Is this something you can’t talk about?”

  He trilled softly. “My secrets are yours, but this one is … embarrassing.”

  “We’ve gotten over a lot of embarrassing stuff.” Akira smiled. “Remember the thing with the wool sweater?”

  Suuzu covered his eyes with one hand. “This is a matter of understanding rather than misunderstanding. I fear Hisoka Twineshaft has found cause to question my integrity.”

  “Why would he do that? You’re totally honorable.”

  “Temptation comes in many forms.” Suuzu tugged and tutted, settling Akira against him so he could speak more quietly still. “He has seen my wavering will and moved accordingly.”

  “Sensei’s our friend.”

  “Every traitor was once a friend.”

  Akira leaned into Suuzu’s shoulder. “You’re awfully serious about something, but you haven’t really explained anything. Are you going to tell me or not?”

  “Do you know the stories about Auriel of the Golden Seed?”

  “Nope.”

  Suuzu spoke softly. “There is a forgotten lore, older than oceans, sung by the stars. These most ancient of tales recall a time when the waters parted and the heavens sent sowers over the emerging land. Some call this the first Emergence.”

  Akira chuckled. “If the stories are forgotten, how do you know them?”

  “Because one of the ten tasks given to a tenth child is to remember what the other nine cannot.” Suuzu continued, “One of the sowers was an angel called Auriel. To him were given the nuts, pods, and cones of every kind of singing tree, for they would be needed.”

  “Amaranthine trees?”

  Suuzu nodded. “Hither and thither, he flew, seeking good soil in the world’s secret places. And in his wake rose the elder orchards and ancient groves, gifts from the Maker for the good of all Creation.”

  “For real?”

  A chiding trill. A wistful smile. “One age passed into the next, and Auriel’s task neared an end. Only a handful of seeds remained in his pouch—burnished like gold, thrumming with promise. He searched for new ground, far from the places his efforts were already bearing fruit, and happened upon a group of women fleeing the harem of a cruel king. At Auriel’s appearance, they wept for joy, saying, ‘Guide us, for we have lost our way.’”

  “I’m guessing he stuck around.”

  “Yes, and seeing that they were fainting from hunger, Auriel cast about for something they could eat. But the land was desolate, and all he had were the seeds he had yet to sow—twelve in all.”

  “How many ladies did he rescue?”

  Suuzu nodded. “You are right, there were twelve.”

  “What happens when you eat a golden seed?”

  “You are getting ahead of the story,” grumbled the phoenix. “Auriel fed the seeds to the women, who found strength enough for a great journey. He led them to a mountain where phoenixes made nests in the rocks, for in those days, wild phoenixes were plentiful.”

  Akira had met a few phoenix Kith, but he wasn’t sure if there were any wild phoenixes left in the world. It had seemed rude to ask.

  Suuzu said, “Two Amaranthine lived in the heights, nestmates watching over the wild birds that were their responsibility. They welcomed the weary travelers, making room for them and tending to their needs, which soon multiplied, for all twelve women were found to be with child.”

  “Oh, man.”

  “Before he left, Auriel handed down the first of the songs of trees, a prophecy which is still known by all Amaranthine children. It is one of our lullabies.” Suuzu hummed a few bars. “The language is
old, and much of the beauty is lost in translation. After a warning against the allure of trees, Auriel explains what happens to the heedless. For the consequences would be the same for them as for these twelve women.”

  Akira grumbled, “You’re dragging this out on purpose.”

  Suuzu hung his head, then softly sang, “Take the golden seed from your child’s hand, and plant it beside your front step. Teach your child to watch and water, to tend to their twin. In so doing, they will gain a tree’s age and bring home many blessings.”

  “Wait, you skipped something. Where’d the kid get a seed?”

  “They were born with a seed in their hand.”

  “All twelve of them?”

  “Yes. And when the children were old enough, they obeyed the angel and planted the seed.”

  Akira’s eyes widened. “And lived. Like Sis and Quen’s mom, whose lives are tied to their bondmate’s. Only the kids were matched up with their tree.”

  “We call them tree-kin.”

  “There’s really such a thing?”

  Suuzu hushed him, a finger to his lips. “The elder orchards and ancient groves fell long ago, ravaged by the human desire for immortality. But enough seeds survived. Few know about the groves. Fewer still know where they are hidden.”

  “Your island?”

  Suuzu nodded once.

  “Okay, that’s pretty cool. But why does this make a problem between you and Hisoka-sensei?”

  His friend laughed weakly and hugged him closer. “If those reliquaries hold golden seeds, then they hold Auriel’s promise for the one who plants them.”

  “They’d still work.”

  “Yes. And Twineshaft clearly knows this, and he has set a guard so that I will not succumb to temptation.”

  “You’d steal a seed?”

  His voice was thick with longing. “I do want one.”

  “But … why?”

  Suuzu made a broken little noise.

  Hot tears splashed Akira’s cheek, and his heart trembled. “For me?”

  “Yes, for you. Even though I would break laws, break faith, break trust. Even so, I would take it and have you plant it beside the threshold of our home.”