Waiting for Kuniko

by David Kudler

  Waiting for Kuniko

  Kunoichi Companion Tales #2.2

  (A Seasons of the Sword Prequel)

  by

  David Kudler

  Stillpoint/Atalanta

  Waiting for Kuniko:

  A Chance Encounter

  Stillpoint Digital Press

  Mill Valley, California, USA

  Copyright © 2021 by David Kudler

  All right reserved. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, or other—without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review. For more information, contact the publisher at

  rights@stillpointdigitalpress.com

  First edition, September 2020

  Version 1.0 (PublishDrive)

  ISBN 978-1-393660-88-0

  Risuko news subscribers and Kickstarter backers get exclusive early access to the Kunoichi Companion Tales, a series of exciting prequel stories by Risuko author David Kudler that introduce characters and themes from the Seasons of the Sword novels!

  There are at least eight planned stories:

  Kunoichi Companion Tales

  White Robes — Mired in her own grief, Lady Mochizuki Chiyome encounters two young women who give her a whole new, much more interesting opportunity (now available!)

  Silk & Service — A young Takeda warrior meets a servant who is much more than she seems (now available!)

  Waiting for Kuniko — Mieko is waiting at a rendezvous behind enemy lines. In the rain. Without a hat. The person who comes up the road is the last person she expected to encounter.

  Wild Mushrooms — A Hōjō commander is delighted when two pretty young shrine maidens enter his camp on the evening before a battle. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been.

  Ghost — At a banquet to celebrate a new alliance, Chiyome contemplates murder, and discovers a new servant (now available!)

  Schools for Talented Youngsters: Monthly Headmistresses’ Dinner — Three unique ladies get together once a month to share the joys and challenges involved teaching young ladies with very particular… talents. (Historical fantasy/crossover)

  Shining Boy — Plucked off of the streets of the capital, an orphan girl tries to figure out what story she's wandered into (Coming soon!)

  Blade — Toumi doesn't want anyone messing with her business (Coming soon!)

  Little Brother — Returning to the monastery turns out to be as hard as leaving it was (Coming soon!)

  Not yet a subscriber? Sign up now!

  —

  Also by David Kudler

  The Seven Gods of Luck

  Shlomo Travels to Warsaw

  How Raven Brought Back the Light

  Risuko: A Kunoichi Tale (now available)

  Samurai, Assassins, Warlords...

  and a Girl Who Likes to Climb

  Though Japan has been devastated by a century of civil war, Risuko just wants to climb trees. Growing up far from the battlefields and court intrigues, the fatherless girl finds herself pulled into a plot that may reunite Japan -- or may destroy it. She is torn from her home and what is left of her family, but finds new friends at a school that may not be what it seems.

  Magical but historical, Risuko follows her along the first dangerous steps to discovering who she truly is.

  (Teen historical adventure novel)

  Coming Soon!

  Bright-Eyes (Seasons of the Sword #2)

  Find out more on Risuko.Net

  Follow on:

  twitter.com/RisukoKunoichi • risuko-chan.tumblr.com

  facebook.com/risuko.books • instagram.com/RisukoKunoichi

  risuko.livejournal.com

  Table of Contents

  Kunoichi Tales

  Waiting for Kuniko

  Special Offer

  Preview: Risuko - A Kunoichi Tale

  Landmarks

  Cover

  Table of Contents

  Body Matter

  Waiting for Kuniko

  Mieko wanted to leave.

  She was waiting on a worn stone shrine beneath a dripping red pine. Rain was falling, and she had been waiting here, slowly getting wet, since the clouds had sloshed in around midday. She and Kuniko had split, Mieko searching the area on the south side of the valley while Kuniko searched in the village on the north side. They were looking for young Sachi and Hoshi, the two newest kunioichi, who were supposed to have checked in from their mission at dawn.

  Mieko wasn’t worried — not really. Kuniko was more than capable of taking care of herself, and Sachi and Hoshi weren’t stupid. Their mission was a fairly simple one: wander up to Tiptown, where the Uesugi commander kept the headquarters for this part of the province, and see if any of the soldiers might let something slip to a couple of pretty girls. It was a mission that Mieko and Kuniko could have done in their sleep — had done more than once — but it seemed like a good, straightforward test for the two younger girls.

  The two newly initiated kunoichi.

  But they were behind enemy lines, and they hadn’t arrived at the rendezvous at the roadside shrine this morning. And while Mieko had wanted to charge up to Tiptown to make sure the girls were safe, Kuniko had sensibly pointed out that they had probably just lost track of time or gotten turned around. And so she had suggested that they split up and search this part of the valley before heading into the enemy’s stronghold.

  They’d agreed to meet up on the main road at this battered old shrine to some nameless forest god. They’d agreed to meet at the hour of the horse — noon, which would give them plenty of daylight to make their way to Tiptown, if they had to. And Mieko had quickly confirmed that no, Sachi and Hoshi weren’t at either of the forest shrines further off the road, nor at any of the farms that dotted the southern side of the valley. And then she’d returned to their meeting point and, as the rain began to fall, she waited.

  And waited.

  She wanted to leave, but she couldn’t. She was waiting for Kuniko. And Sachi and Hoshi.

  Mieko sighed, wiping the drizzle from her eyelashes. She should have worn a hat.

  A movement to her left startled her — but it was just a cat. Sleek and orange, it sauntered up the road, bathing her briefly in the glare of its yellow eyes before slinking off into the woods behind the shrine.

  Trying to get dry, probably, thought Mieko with a sigh.

  She should have planned for rain. She really should have brought a hat.

  Were Hoshi and Sachi safe? Sachi could charm anyone, and Hoshi seemed very capable of protecting them both; she was no Kuniko, but she could hold her own against Mieko herself in hand-to-hand combat more often than not.

  Not with a knife, of course. No one was better than Mieko with a knife.

  And Kuniko…

  Mieko felt the usual twinge of annoyance when concern about her friend stabbed at her. Kuniko would hate that Mieko was worrying about her.

  Kuniko was the most self-sufficient person Mieko knew — even more so than Chiyome-sama, if Mieko were being completely honest. During their childhood together back at Wingtip Castle, when Kuniko could have depended on Mieko for everything — should have, really, at least according to Mieko’s mother — Kuniko had insisted on doing everything for herself. Dressing herself. Cleaning herself. Defending herself.

  And when the castle had fallen, all of their families gone, and they had had to dress as shrine maidens to escape the Akita, Kuniko had promised to take care of Mieko — to protect her.

  And she had always done so.

  And Mieko had promised the same: that she would always protect Kuniko, would always take care of the other g
irl, as she had been born to do.

  It was an oath she had sworn to herself before she and Kuniko had met Lady Chiyome, and the only duty that Mieko held above the one she had willingly sworn to the mistress of the Full Moon. But she had had to take that oath silently — to herself. She knew that, quite rightly, Lady Chiyome would accept no divided loyalty, and that Kuniko would be hurt that Mieko felt that Kuniko needed protection. So Mieko worried about her other half, her friend, her second soul, but she did so without letting anyone see that she was worried.

  Sitting there on a mossy stone shrine beneath a dripping pine, however, with Chiyome-sama and Kuniko nowhere in sight, Mieko couldn’t help but feel the drip-drip-drip of concern for Kuniko’s well-being chilling her chest even as the rain chilled her neck.

  A sound from down the road in the direction of Tiptown, and Mieko was on her feet before she had recognized it as a horse’s shod footstep on the road. Startled by Mieko’s sudden movement, the cat scurried out from behind the shrine and shot into the undergrowth on the far side of the road.

  Mist obscured the view down the tunnel of branches, and so Mieko could only check her weapons, uncertain what might be coming down the path from the Uesugi stronghold. A mounted samurai? A squadron of lancers? A farmer?

  Daggers at either wrist and hidden in the hairpins that held her hair more or less in place. The steel fan with its envenomed, retractable blades tucked in her sash. Three pouches of poison, also in her sash — one to cause uncontrollable nausea, one to blind, and the third to cause incapacity and slow death. A locket with hidden spikes that would serve as a caltrop if thrown on the ground. A wire garrote concealed as an anklet beneath her skirts. Another, longer dagger strapped to her thigh.

  Mieko stood at the ready (the Two Fields), doing her best to appear as meek and inoffensive as possible while preparing to take on an army if need be.

  A shadow resolved itself out of the mist: a figure on horseback wearing a slanted hat. Likely male. What looked like a sword hilt projecting from his side.

  Not Kuniko. But no other visible threats, at least.

  The rider approached through the drizzle: a lightly armed samurai on a sleek, black charger. No insignia to mark allegiance. A short sword.

  An open, warm face…

  “Miss?” he said. “Do you need —?” He peered down at her. The reins dropped from his fingers. “Mieko-san?”

  Who—? Mieko blinked, splattering more water onto her cheek. “I… This humble servant begs —“

  “Please, Mieko-san,” said the man, bowing in the saddle, “it is I who beg your pardon. I am too forward.” He slid from the horse and bowed again. “We met last year when I was a guest of the, um…” He glanced around. “At the castle. You served my commander and the other captains tea and wine.”

  Oh! “Masugu-san?” A strange shiver passed through her chest, different from the cold drip of fear. She realized that she had taken his hand. “You… You are well?”

  Yes, that was it: she was relieved. They had left the Takeda warrior at the Imagawa castle unconscious. Kuniko had knocked him out — rather harder than necessary, Mieko had felt — in order to make it look as if he had been attacked attempting to stop their escape, rather than assisting it. “The ruse worked?”

  He nodded earnestly, then winced. “It was… very effective. And the most important thing was that you were able to escape.”

  Again, Mieko felt that cold-hot feeling, and could only nod.

  He nodded back. “And… you and your friend…?”

  “Kuniko.”

  “Yes. You and Kuniko. Are you on ku—“

  “Miko business, yes,” she found herself chirping. She patted the featureless shrine.

  “Yes, yes, of course.” He nodded again.

  “And you, Masugu-san? Are you on some… business yourself?”

  He shrugged. “My tenure as a… guest at… um, yes. The castle. It ended while I was in the capital. I’m making my way… back to my family.”

  “Ah.” They nodded at each other.

  Mieko worked very hard to cultivate an air of calm and of decorum. That appearance served to make her seem both less threatening and, when the circumstances required it, more so. Yet at the moment, she felt neither calm nor decorous, and she was annoyed at her own agitation — annoyed with herself, but also, somewhat unfairly, with Masugu.

  It did not help, of course, that, so close to the frontier between the part of Dark Letter Province controlled by the Uesugi and that controlled by Lord Takeda, both of them were conscious of being in enemy territory — that they both felt the need to speak covertly, though no one but the nameless god of the shrine or the ginger cat was likely to overhear.

  Masugu’s horse tossed its mane, splattering water onto them both.

  Both she and Masugu started at the sudden cold, and then, predictably, each began to apologize to the other. Then each began to wave away the apology — though neither let go of the other’s hand.

  Then they settled into uneasy silence.

  As Mieko worked to find her equilibrium once more, uncertain where or why she had lost it, Masugu worried at the edge of his hat, still in the hand not holding hers.

  Finally, he said, “I hope that you have been well, this past year?”

  She kept herself from simply nodding once again like an idiot, and answered, “Very well, thank you, Masugu-san.”

  “Ah. Good. I am glad to hear it.” He peered into her eyes. “There have been reports of bandits and such on the roads. I am glad that you are well.”

  Mieko kept to herself the response that first occurred to her (The bandits would be better off to worry about me and Kuniko than the other way around) and answered as politely as she could, “Thank you, Masugu-san. Kuniko and I keep each other as safe as we can.”

  “I am quite certain that that is true. Yet we live in such desperate times that I am glad to hear that you and… your friend continue to be careful.” His look was, as always, sincere and open, and told Mieko that in fact he meant it — that he believed that they could defend themselves, but knew that dangers lurked everywhere for the unwary.

  “Of course. As I am glad that you have been careful on the road from the capital. A lone samurai on the Great Mountain Highway may meet with so many unsavory characters and unsafe situations.” A thought occurred to her. “Why did you make your way back to your family by this route? Would the Great Sea Road not have been safer and nearly as direct?”

  “Ah.” Now his face colored. “I… I may have wished to visit your school at the Full Moon. After our meeting at the castle, I was concerned that you — you and your friend — had returned safely.”

  As if in response to his, a blush bloomed across Mieko’s cheeks and down her neck, much to her annoyance. She hid it as best she could behind her free hand. “You are very kind, Masugu-san. As you can see, I am well. We were able to return to the Full Moon without incident — in part thanks to your assistance.”

  His gaze remained locked on hers, which of course just made the blush worse. “I am so glad to hear it,” he said. Then he blinked and, for the first time, looked around. “Were you here today with your friend — with…?”

  “Kuniko. Yes.” She forced herself to stand straighter, to act as if she were not bright pink, and as if the nerves in her fingers and her stomach weren’t dancing as if set alight by lightning. “We came with a pair of… recent initiates to train them in conducting certain… rites. Unfortunately, they wandered off and seem to have gotten lost. Kuniko and I have been looking for them since this morning.”

  “Oh.” He frowned. “Are you concerned for their welfare? We could search on Inazuma.” He nodded to the young black stallion, which was nibbling at grass on the roadside.

  “Thank you. Kuniko and I were to meet here at the hour of the horse. I should wait for her here.” When his frown deepened, she added, “But if she returns without them, perhaps we could prevail upon you to aid in our search?”

  That caused his f
rown to reverse itself. “I should be honored, Mieko-san.”

  “Thank you.” He smiled, and she was annoyed once more to find her expression mirroring his. “Kuniko may have found them, which would explain why she is somewhat late. But your offer is very kind.”

  “It would be my pleasure, Mieko-san.” He grinned, and Mieko was once again irritated to find herself responding to his response. “In the meantime, I shall wait with you, if I may?”

  “That would be lovely,” said Mieko, and, with an inner sigh, forced herself to accept that she actually meant it.

  Mieko’s duty was to Kuniko, to Lady Chiyome, and to the Takeda cause. Masugu was a Takeda. Masugu was a comrade.

  And yet Mieko was finding herself forced to concede that, as with Kuniko, her concern for the young officer seemed to be something more than comradeship. What that concern was and, more importantly, why it was were questions that she did not feel capable of examining at the moment.

  She had thought of him, off and on over the past year — of his face, serious and frank as they talked in the hallway outside the room where she had just poisoned Captain Katsudama, who was attempting to convince Lord Imagawa to betray the Takeda and ally with the Hōjo. Of the feel of his hand on hers, later in the kitchens, when he had assured her that he would assist her — and Kuniko — in their escape from the castle.

  The feel of his hand on hers…

  Concern — she had been concerned that he would be caught and blamed for their escape, for the death of Katsudama. Yes. She had been concerned. And relief — she was relieved to find that he was safe, it is true.

  But something more was causing Mieko’s middle to dance and her skin to color.

  She looked down at their hands, still clasped. “Masugu —”?

  And then the rain began to pour down, harder than before, and the two instinctively stepped closer. Masugu raised his hat over both of their heads.