Reunited – Chapter 33

This morning, Kazuo is the one to retrieve me and bring me before Miura. I never heard him return to camp in the night. His eyes are sunken and his clothing rumpled. While we wait for Miura to join us, Kazuo combs out his hair with his fingers and re-secures it in a ponytail at his neck.

Another morning before Miura, sitting seiza in a wet field of grass, surrounded by the tall, maroon jinmaku battle curtains. I stall for time again, not talking, not making decisions yet. I stare at the Taira butterfly kamon and blur my eyes. If I stare long enough, it looks like a flower too.

“What’s your choice today, Sanaa? I think you know the penalty for being a smart ass.” Miura is bored. He’s done with me already.

Hiro sits across from me and to the side of Miura with Emiko standing next to him. His bound hands are red, and he’s sitting up straight, being as brave as an eight year old can be who witnessed his mother’s death yesterday. His eyes meet mine, and I smile at him warmly. No worries, Hiro. I’ll do the right thing, but I can’t control Miura. I can’t control him.

“I will not kill myself. You’ll have to kill me if you want me dead.” I pick up the dagger and throw it away from me. “But if my only choices are suicide or Fujiwara, I’ll take my chances with Fujiwara.”

“Well, then…” he says, pleased. He sits back on his stool, puffing out his chest. “I expected you to resist again. This makes my job a little easier since we’re meeting up with Fujiwara tonight, not tomorrow as originally planned. I can get rid of you quicker and get back in the business of settling here on Yūsei. There was a town I was interested in taking over not far from here. A good jumping off point for taking over Yamato next.”

He stands up and leaves the enclosure with his guards, not paying me any more mind.

“You’ll give Hiro back to his father?” I call after him.

“I’ll have the boy dropped off in the mountains, and he can take his chances getting home.” Miura motions to two men, and they return to the enclosure for Hiro.

“Hiro, tell your father I’m sorry about your mother.”

He doesn’t answer me.

There’s nothing else to say, no other pleasantries to discuss. He must hate me deep down, and I doubt he will ever forgive me. I hope he makes it home in one piece.

“I didn’t expect Fujiwara to come tonight,” Kazuo says, lifting me from the ground, “but I think we’re closer to the capital now than we were yesterday.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I say, trying to lift my chin. “I’m carrying a baby now, and I could never kill myself. It was my only choice. Whether I go with Fujiwara tonight or tomorrow makes no difference.”

Kazuo looks around at the jinmaku curtains snapping in the breeze and the last few people filtering out and back to the camp.

“I don’t understand you, Sanaa. You’re a twenty-four-year-old girl stolen from your family, and your life’s about to end. You should be screaming and hysterical.”

I shrug my shoulders. “I placed my bets a long time ago. I made a pact with Jiro that if I was taken he’d come for me. If he doesn’t come, he must be dead. It’s already looking like this is the case. How can I go on living happily without my love?”

“You really love Jiro that much?” he asks, dubious.

I close my eyes, turn my face to the sun, and let the light warm me. I wish my hands weren’t bound so I could hug myself. I could use a hug.

“I love Jiro with every bit of my soul. Every last little bit. He knows me better than I know myself. I can only hope I get to keep our baby. It’s a false hope, but it’s better than nothing.”

“What if I told you he’s alive?” His head, cocked to the side, awaits my reaction, but I shrug and start towards my tent. Is that a hypothetical question? Because I don’t think there’s any way he could know.

“Then he’ll come for me. He said he wouldn’t rest until we’re together again, and I trust him. I’ll have to stay alive long enough to find out.”

Of course, Fujiwara himself doesn’t arrive. A true leader sends minions to do their work. So I’m not surprised when the afternoon sun dips towards the horizon and an entourage of thirty men on horseback, flying banners emblazoned with the Fujiwara kamon, a wisteria plant hanging down in a circle, enter the camp. I’ve been waiting outside the tent in the grass guarded by two men with Kazuo sitting next to me. He hasn’t spoken to me since our conversation in the jinmaku, except to give me food and take me back to the tent so I can pee.

I asked to spend the day outside. It might very well be my last, and I want to sit under the blue sky and not feel fear. I want the sun to warm my skin and my hair. I release the ponytail my hair’s been in for days and let the dirty lock hang down around my shoulders. I’m disgusting. I haven’t bathed in ages.

Miura approaches me with a man decked out in Fujiwara kimono. He’s carrying two swords in his belt, a katana and wakizashi, and he has a full beard and short buzzed hair.

“This is her?” he asks, incredulous, and then lets out a laugh. “But she’s so small!” He’s using the Japanese dialect I haven’t heard in a week, but it’s easier to understand now than it was in the beginning.

I remain passive, wanting to smirk and be a smart ass, but Kazuo is the one who laughs at the Fujiwara regent. The regent is immediately offended and reaches for his sword. Kazuo’s hands go up, palms out. Uh oh. These guys are touchy.

“Fine. We’ll take her. The deal stands. We test her for the genetic markers, and if she’s who you say she is, the crops, the money, and the land are yours. Be at court tomorrow to take payment.” He turns to Kazuo. “Bring her.”

They lead the way, Kazuo takes me by the arm, and I whisper to him while we walk. “Despite everything, what you did to Helena and all the spying, thanks for talking to me these past two days. You’re probably going to be the last person who will ever be kind to me, and I appreciate it. I won’t forget it.”

We follow along through camp, and I catch sight of Sachi and Emiko, Miura’s daughters, Nobu and Yukio Yamamoto, but not Risa. Good. I never want to see her again. I try my hardest to be strong, but when I see the caged cart being pulled by a horse, I start to cry. How has it come to this? Not since landing have I wanted to go back to Nishikyō as badly as I do right this moment.

“Put her in there and secure the lock,” the regent directs and leaves us to mount his horse.

I climb into the cage and sit down by the door while Kazuo closes it on me. “You know, Sanaa, I finally put my money down on the table, and I think I picked a winner.”

“I’m sure you did. Miura seems to be the stronger one in this arrangement.”

“I didn’t choose Miura.” He leans into the bars and whispers, “You’ll have to hold on till tomorrow night.”

With a lurch, my cage starts moving, and as I’m led away from camp, Kazuo brings his hand up in a short wave then his index finger to his lips.

My heart leaps into my throat.

What do you mean, Kazuo?

Don’t give me hope when there’s none to be had.