When Yumi was a child, she’d adored the son of Takeda Shingen. Even gone so far as to insist they would marry one day, despite his loud protestations. Age and circumstance had disavowed her of the notion. She now considered Ōkami more of a brother than her own flesh and blood, but it did not stop her from wondering what this earnest-eyed waif possessed that she did not.
“I do wish you would exercise more caution, Lady Mariko,” Yumi said, even as she continued pressing the girl’s back into the wall. Restraining her. “This city thrives on gossip, and information of this sort—that Prince Raiden’s bride was seen in Hanami—would undo most young women.”
An exasperated sigh passed Mariko’s lips. “I don’t have time for caution or silly traditions. Please answer my question. Why has Tsuneoki not attempted to make contact with me? Does he have any plans to mount a rescue effort for Ōkami?”
“Keep your voice down.” Yumi chastised her with a sharp glare. “I don’t know if he plans to mount a rescue yet. There have been some … developments along the eastern edges of the empire, and they’ve been a hindrance to passing and receiving information.”
“You’re speaking of the plague.” Mariko nodded, her tone hovering just above a whisper. “I do not have many details, but I do know that it has also been a source of consternation between the emperor and his elder brother.”
Unable to withhold her appreciation for the girl’s resourcefulness, Yumi tilted her head in thought. “Interesting.”
“Can you find a way to deliver Ōkami out of the city, if I manage to get him to you?”
The girl was relentless, and it made Yumi’s begrudging admiration for her grow. “That might prove to be difficult,” she said drily. “It would not be an easy feat to leave the city with Takeda Shingen’s son and Prince Raiden’s betrothed in tow.”
“I will not be going with you. It will just be Ōkami. But these details are unimportant right now. Do you have a way to get word to your brother and see if he can assist?”
This time, it was impossible for Yumi to hide her surprise at Hattori Mariko’s revelation. “You do not intend to go with Ōkami, Lady Mariko?”
“My name is simply Mariko,” she said. “Please call me that and dispense with all these ridiculous formalities.” She bit at her lip while seeming to struggle for the best way to lend her thoughts a voice. “I would like nothing more than to leave this place behind, but I do not think it is possible, and”—Mariko sucked in a breath—“I believe I can serve the Black Clan better if I remain at Heian Castle. They will need a listening ear at court if they ever intend to prevail over the Minamoto clan, and I can easily provide that as Prince Raiden’s wife.”
Yumi nodded, impressed by her logic. Hattori Kenshin’s sister was not the same girl who’d been left to convalesce in the okiya, broken and burned after the disastrous raid on the Hattori granary. Thus far, Yumi had thought Mariko simply possessed a mind for invention. Not an eye for strategy.
“My brother will not leave you behind.” Yumi sighed. “And Ōkami will never permit it.”
“It is not something for him to permit.” Mariko spoke with conviction. “It is my choice. I’m counting on you to help me with it, Yumi-san. You know it is the best course of action for me to stay at court. I will only slow their escape, therefore …” She glanced at Yumi sidelong, an unspoken request hanging in the air.
“You wish for me to lie.” It was not a question.
“I wish for you to help me by holding these details close at hand, only for a short while.”
“You wish for much.” Though Yumi wore a steely expression as she said the words, she began to relax for the first time since she’d set eyes on the girl today.
They’d spent time in each other’s company before. Yumi had cared for Mariko while the girl had healed from her injuries. Though Yumi had kept Mariko hidden and fed, she had not spent much time actually speaking with her.
It was quite simple: Yumi had not trusted her. And why should she? Ōkami had been livid when he’d brought the girl to the okiya. Mariko had concealed her identity from him, putting them all at risk.
Any esteem Yumi had felt for her had been relegated to the simple fact that Mariko had won over the heart of Ōkami. Another impossible feat. Up until now, Yumi had seen little to recommend a true friendship between them. Yumi held her secrets close to her heart, and Mariko was direct in her pursuits. Far more direct than Yumi thought wise.
Though it pained her to admit it, Yumi realized her reticence to befriend Mariko might stem from jealousy. It bothered her immensely to know that. She had far better things to do with her time than be jealous of another girl.
The two young women knelt in the center of the small chamber of Yumi’s living quarters, regarding each other in silence. Her trusted maidservant, Kirin, slid open the doors, and an elegant courtyard framing a serpentine stream flashed into view. The calming sounds of the winding water granted Yumi a moment of serenity in a world of madness. Her sense of peace renewed, Yumi smiled as Kirin shuffled back to the sliding doors, leaving a tray of steam cakes and other refreshments behind.
Yumi and Mariko drank their tea. From beneath her eyelashes, Yumi studied Hattori Kenshin’s sister, trying to glean more of her personality.
Now that Yumi had spent two nights in Kenshin’s company, she could say without reservation that Mariko did not resemble her brother at all, in manner or in speech. There was a beautiful urgency to everything she did. An earnestness that both warmed Yumi and cautioned her in the same instant. In contrast, Kenshin seemed determined to punish himself for every breath he took. Nothing seemed urgent to the Dragon of Kai, save for escape.
For the first time, Yumi understood what Ōkami saw in Mariko. Unfaltering resolve. Ōkami had always been steadfast in his lack of principles. One could even suggest it was an honor-bound struggle for him. He cared about little and loved almost nothing. Yumi understood why. He’d lost everything, just as she had. In recent years, Ōkami provided her with a foil for Tsuneoki. She’d knowingly used her affection for him to inflict hurt on her brother.
To make him feel the pain of her rejection as she had felt the pain of his.
Yumi set down her porcelain cup and let her shoulders fall in relaxation. “Mariko, we’ve spent most of our time together speaking about the men we are unlucky to know, but I wish to learn something of you. Why are you doing this?”
Dismay flashed across Mariko’s face. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t have to be involved in these matters. You could simply live your life. Get married if you wish to marry, go home if you wish to go home. You are not in a situation where your life depends on whether or not we can depose Minamoto Roku. In fact—given your family’s longstanding support of the Minamoto clan—it might be more problematic for you than helpful to assist us.”
A breath passed in stunned stillness. Yumi watched Mariko’s features shift from astonishment to guilt to calculation. She appreciated the girl for not trying to play a game of words simply to impress. It shed further light on her character.
“I’ve not spoken about this with anyone before,” Mariko said. “No one in my family’s province could have been trusted with it, even my personal attendant—a girl who died trying to save me that day in the forest, when my caravan was overrun by bandits. I’ve been listening to the words of men all my life. I’ve done what I was told to do for seventeen years. Before I infiltrated the Black Clan, do you know the last time I felt in control of my own life? The last time I felt alive?”
Yumi waited.
“It was not long after my parents formalized the match with Prince Raiden,” Mariko said. “When I wished to do something bold that only I would know, that only I would understand. I seduced a young man in a hay loft, with the intention of losing my maidenhead to him purely out of spite.”
Yumi’s eyes went wide.
Mariko continued. “But that wasn’t the only reason. I did it for myself; so that I would not feel like a piece of chattel traded at the whim of men. So that I would know at least one part of myself I gave of my own will.”