Inochi

By Linda

Chapter 4

The cluster of buildings I’d seen turned out to be four long rows of windowless buildings, made of stout red-brown brick on brick floors. In front of these long buildings, connected to each one, ran a long, narrow, fenced-in yard. The fence surrounding each yard was very tall, of woven wire, sharp and fierce-looking, reinforced by steel bars, and topped by a roll of wire with razors embedded within. I could see inside easily, see the milling about of all kinds of slaves, young and middle-aged, and old. Many more of the guards were within, and without, eyes sharp and watchful, clubs and whips hanging from their sashes.

The two buildings to the far left housed women, and the two to the far right housed men, the pairs of buildings divided by an expanse of graveled yard as wide as the pond at home. They seemed further separated into human and non-human buildings; the ones to the respective rights held humans, and the ones to the left, more heavily-guarded, held non-humans of shapes and colors I had never before imagined. Some of them looked as if they'd stepped from the shadows of nightmares, and I looked quickly away. Youkai, my mind whispered. Demon. It was the name my father had called me, but looking at these beings as different from myself as I was from my family, I wondered just how much of a youkai I truly was.

None of the slaves looked maltreated, though they all had a despairing, unhappy air that seemed to wrap about me like fog and seep into my skin. They were all dressed in ragtag assortments of clothing, and didn’t look much different than did I, unlike the ones in the courtyard. But none of them had the pinched, hungry look I knew so well from looking into the faces of my family. Even if they were thin, they still looked as if Hamanari had fed them well since purchasing them. He had been generous with me; I could only imagine that he provided plentiful food for these poor souls.

As Kyo and I passed along the fence on the path between the mens' buildings, a few of the men ventured closer to watch us go by. Their faces were fierce, their eyes hot and hungry-looking. I shied away from them, moving closer to Kyo, though I knew they were unable to reach me through the razored edges of the fence. Some of them called to me, saying lewd things; their collective ki was black and loathsome, and made my skin crawl, as if worms wriggled over it. I understood some of the things they said, and the others I could guess the meaning, and I felt myself blush distressingly as they rubbed their crotches as I went by. Kyo whirled and snarled at the worst of them. Those men merely laughed at him, backing up only when threatened by the guards.

“Is this the pens?” I asked softly, keeping close to Kyo's bulk.

“Yes. Bad place for you. Guards watch, but can’t see everything. Sometimes boys get hurt. Then Haruna has to fix.”

The ki of this place was so very heavy, and I felt almost as I had when Kei, one of my older brothers, had tried to hold my head down beneath the pond water one summer when I hadn’t been as alert as I should. I didn’t like it, and wrapped my arms tightly around myself, keeping my mind tightly shut against it. My head ached again, full of the hum of many ki, too many to try and block out. I was utterly, completely grateful to Hamanari for wanting me away from here. The despair I could feel filled me like the pond water had tried to fill my lungs. This I couldn’t fight, as I’d fought Kei; this simply had to be borne.

At the end of the last long building, a small distance away, sat a smaller one surrounded by a narrow wooden veranda. Kyo’s steps carried us there, and when I stood at the doorway, I could finally draw a deep breath. I could still feel the oppressive ki of the pens, but it didn't beat down upon the top of my head like a torrential rainstorm.

Kyo rapped loudly on the sliding door’s frame and stepped back, as if he expected it to fly open and a demon emerge, ready to bite his head off. I remembered what he’d said about Haruna having red eyes, and I wondered if she truly were a demon. Hamanari had all manner of slaves, both human and not---what else might I expect?

“What in hells do you want now?” The voice that boomed out at us was strident, loud, and abrasive, even though muffled somewhat by the closed door. I looked up at Kyo, unsure, but he didn’t look surprised. Neither did he answer, but stood there, a solid, rock-like presence, seemingly unaffected.

“What? Don’t just stand there like an idiot...come in.” A pause. “Now, dammit!”

Kyo gave my chain a little tug, and reluctantly, I followed him in as he slid open the door, trailing behind him, unsure as to what I’d find. Kyo reached behind me to close the door, then stood, tall and hulking, waiting for acknowledgement.

The interior of the building was whitewashed, and the wooden floors were very clean and shining. I toed off my rush thongs in the vestibule immediately and stood there waiting, curling my toes on the smooth chill floor. It smelled clean here, of medicinal herbs, much like those Hamanari had used on his hands after he’d examined me. Although I didn't like that memory, I could appreciate the scent of cleanliness here, far different than the rank, sweaty smell of the pens. Many paper lanterns kept the growing dusk at bay and gave off a soft golden light that didn’t hurt my eyes, and didn’t smell bad, like the oil lamps had at home.

I could see several rooms separated by closed shoji screens, and so wasn’t able to tell what was there. Before us, though, was a wide room, the wooden floors not covered by tatami mats, a room open and airy, with a hip-high table off to the side, covered in old but clean blankets. Next to that, shelves filled with jars, and chests on the floor. I could see rolls of clean bandages, jars and pots of salves and herbs, and other things I could only assumed were for the healer’s art. Kyo had said she’d fixed his arm as a child, so I could only assume this Haruna, whoever she was, passed as Hamanari’s healer.

“What the hells are you bringing me ~now~? If you guards were more alert, and did your duty ~properly~, I’d not always be fixing up your mistakes!”

The owner of the voice appeared, and I blinked. I’d expected from the booming voice someone as big as Kyo, or at least as tall as myself, but this woman was tiny, scarcely larger than a child. I’d have been surprised if the top of her head even reached my chest. Her hair was indeed grey, as Kyo had said, and hung in two long neat plaits over her chest to her hips. She looked mostly human, with a triangular face with a sharp pointed chin, like Mai’s, though not nearly as pretty as Mai’s, nor as sweet natured. Her ears were as pointed as my own, her skin a greeny-bronze color, like old coins, an odd color, but somehow not disturbing. She had a fierce expression on her plain face, and her small mouth pursed in a frown. Her eyes were indeed red, as red as ripe berries, and flicked over us both, her whole stance one of confrontation and aggression, her ki very bright and shifting gold to red to white, like the heart of a flame.

But then she recognized Kyo, and the aggression poured away from her like water from a broken water pitcher. In a moment, her mouth unknitted from a frown, and crooked slightly upward into a half-smile. I suspected that was as close as she ever got to a real smile.

“Kyo, my boy. You should have said it was you.”

“Shouting too much,” Kyo replied in his calm, matter of fact manner.

“Yare, yare,” she sighed. "You know those thrice-damned guards....” She caught sight of me standing there, trying to make myself as small and invisible as possible, and turned a bright, sharp gaze on me. “What is this you have?”

Kyo gave me a little tug by my sleeve until I stood beside him instead of partially behind him. “Is new slave. Meijin wants you to find place for him. Not in pens. Someplace safe.”

“I rather imagine he does,” Haruna said thoughtfully. Her red eyes were very intense, and I had to suppress the desire to shift on my feet in nervousness. Her gaze was much more penetrating than the Meijin’s, and I felt as if she could somehow see inside me, see how my body worked, what thoughts tumbled through my mind. For all I knew, she could. “Come here, boy.”

I stepped up and stood before her, my hands clasped together. I was much taller than she was, and she had to tilt back her head to look at me. She made a disgusted sound.

“Kneel down so I can see you. You’re too damned tall.”

Instantly I sank down onto my knees and sat back on my heels, my hands loose and non-threatening on my thighs. In that position, I was just below her chin level. Her hand, rough with calluses from a lifetime of hard work, tipped my face up. I looked at her a moment, then remembered my manners and lowered my eyes respectfully. It was not polite to stare at one's elders; that much I knew.

“Saa,” she breathed, the exclamation soft and wondering. “What is your name, boy?”

“I am Inochi, Sensei.” It had taken a moment to remember what I should call someone who possessed knowledge and experience, and I hoped I got it right. Evidently, I did, because she gave me one of those crooked half-smiles.

“A boy with some manners. Nice to see that. I am Haruna, healer for this gods-forsaken pit from hell. How old are you?”

“Sixteen winters, Sensei.”

“Certainly you’re not from here. Did Hamanari buy you from your family?”

“Yes, Sensei.” I paused a moment. “Father died, and my oldest brother Rei sold me.”

“From the north, right?” I nodded, and she looked satisfied. “Only you northerners roll your r’s like that. Well, I’m not surprised at your brother's actions. You northerners are a barbaric, superstitious lot, and I’ll wager he could scarcely wait to sell you off. How you lived even this long is beyond me.”

Her bright gaze released me, focused on Kyo, and I could feel myself relax a little, my muscles start to unknot. I didn’t get angry at her words; I could not, as they were all too true. “Kyo. What did the Meijin say to you?”

“Said to not take Inochi to the pens,” Kyo said promptly. “Said to take to you. Said to tell you to give bath, food, and clothes to him. Keep him in safe place for awhile. Said for me to stay with him and watch.”

I watched as Haruna digested Kyo’s words, watched as a thundercloud seemed to pass over her sharp features.

“Ah. Hells with him. I’ll bet he could scarcely wait to give you the orders before bedding his damned catamite.” Haruna made a dismissive gesture, and a sound of disgust.

I slid a sidewise glance over to Kyo. I wasn’t sure what a catamite was, but suspected she meant Kin’iro, and how he’d mentioned rest. I remembered how Hamanari’s ki had flared warm and golden when he touched Kin’iro. Kyo frowned, working through her statement, trying to understand it, and finally succeeding. “Was in hurry, yes. Was hard.”

“I’ll just bet,” Haruna said darkly. “Gone for two weeks, and we’ll probably hear that creature’s caterwauling all the way down here. Shit.” She heaved a huge sigh, and scratched the back of her neck as she looked at me. “Very well, then. Come along, Inochi, we’ll get you cleaned up and fed, since it appears I’m to be nursemaid along with all my other duties.” Her voice sounded very annoyed, though I didn’t think she was truly angry with me.

I rose as Haruna thumped off into the depths of the house, her hands folded behind her back, muttering vile things against Hamanari. Kyo leaned in close to me, speaking into my ear. “Only sounds mean,” he said softly. “Will treat you good.”

“You’ll stay with me a little while?” Somehow, Kyo’s quiet presence, his calm blue ki gave me some comfort, and I was loath to see him leave, though I knew he must, eventually.

“Yes, will stay.” Again, that rough, thumping pat to my chest, obviously meant to soothe me, and oddly enough, it did.

“Thank you, Kyo,” I murmured. “I appreciate it.”

“Are you coming?” Haruna’s voice from another room was loud and peevish. “I’m a busy woman. Stop dawdling about.” I wasn’t so sure of Kyo’s assurances that she wasn’t as mean as she sounded.

I followed Kyo down the hallway and into the room where Haruna stood, bouncing impatiently on her toes. The room was blessedly warm from a brazier, and filled with golden light from even more of the paper lanterns. In the middle was a wooden tub, large enough for two or three to sit in, already filled with water. It was hot; I could see it steaming. The floor felt curiously warm, almost as if heated from below, somehow. My legs and forearms and hands, bare of clothing, ached from the cold, and I longed to sit in the heated water and warm myself. I’d never had a hot bath---at least one where I could actually sit in a tub.

“Strip off,” Haruna snapped. “Don’t you ~dare~ get into that tub until you’ve washed. Three times. With soap. Wash your hair, too. That tub is for clean bodies, not dirty ones. Kyo, make certain he does it. And you could stand a wash, too,” she said, wrinkling her nose. In the enclosed room, I could smell us both easily; we were quite ripe from a week’s worth of travel, or two, in Kyo’s instance.

She picked up something off a long narrow table sitting flush with the wall, and flipped it to me. I caught it easily; it was a wooden comb with widely spaced teeth.

“Do you have any vermin?” I wasn’t sure what she meant, but Hamanari had said that I had none before he bought me.

I blinked at her. “Vermin, Sensei?”

She sighed. “Insects in your hair, on your body. Nasty crawling things that suck your blood and make you itch.”

I shook my head emphatically. “No. Never.”

“Well, now that’s a surprise,” she said. “Keep the comb for your own use anyway—I don’t want to take any chances. On the table are cloths and scrubbers to wash with. Soap. Use ~lots~ of it. I’m serious. No dirty bodies in that tub. Understand?”

I nodded at her, overwhelmed.

“After you’ve soaked, I’ll have clothes for you. Clothes that ~fit~,” she said, looking critically at my worn, too-small robe. “Those rags you have on, we’ll burn---I want no vermin in my house. Later, I’ll have some food for you, and find a pallet for you to sleep on. Kyo. Do you have a key to that damned collar?”

“No. Meijin says I’m not smart enough to have key, that I will be tricked.”

“Well, damn his eyes.” She stepped to the sliding door. “Natsumi!”

Her bellow made me twitch. I wondered if she ever spoke in a quiet voice, then thought she probably didn’t know how. In a moment, I heard the patter of small feet on the wooden floors, and a little squeak as someone slid to a stop before the door. The person that stepped through the doorway was young girl, about my own age or a little younger, with wildly flying reddish hair, and a round, pretty face. Her cheeks were flushed with haste. She bowed quickly.

“Yes, Haruna Sensei?”

“It took you long enough," Haruna groused, but evidently, Natsumi was accustomed to hearing Haruna complain; it didn't seem to bother the girl in the least. "Go down to the pens and fetch a guard with keys. Don’t waste any time---it’s getting late, and I don’t want you near there this close to dark. Go now.”

Natsumi set off down the hallway at a run with a swish of her long red hair. I could hear her pelting down the hall and the whoosh-slam of the sliding front doorway as she closed it in its track.

I stood quietly and looked at everything in the room while Haruna looked at me, her fine grey brows knit in thought. In a few moments, I heard the girl return, heard the light patter of her feet, followed by the harder, heavier tread of a man. Natsumi bowed quickly to Haruna, and gave way to one of the big guards I'd seen all about. Kyo stood very closely behind me as the man unlocked the collar and collected the chain; I could feel his ki, sharp and piercing, behind me, directed toward the guard. I didn’t need to look backward to know he was scowling again.

The guard looked unimpressed. As he left, he paused at the door, and looked back at me. “Do you wish a guard posted, Haruna Sensei?”

Haruna slanted a look at me, then at Kyo. “Probably a wise precaution.”

He nodded and left. I became aware of Natsumi peering around the edge of the doorway at me; when I looked directly at her, her round cheeks reddened, and she disappeared. I was sorry she had to see me; I knew I was a dirty, disheveled sight.

“Get to work,” Haruna snapped, and closed the door with a slam. She disappeared, shouting for Natsumi again.

Gingerly, I ran the tips of my fingers over my neck. I’d had the heavy collar on for a week; it felt odd, almost, without its weight resting on my collarbones, strange not hearing the clash of the chain whenever I moved. Thank the gods, though, it was now off. Instantly, my eyes went to the single window, set high in the wall, gauging how quickly I could get out of it and hit the ground running. I knew myself to be agile; if I could avoid the guards, I could scramble up that tall brick wall and head back north before they even knew I was gone. I might have a few moments before one of the guards stationed himself outside the window....

Kyo stepped in front of me, close enough that I had to take a step backwards, or have him tread on my toes. He frowned, a terrible sight. “Don’t try to run. Guards will catch you. Will beat you. Kuroda-san will hang you upside down by ankles and take bamboo cane and beat bottoms of feet. Feet will swell up and can’t walk for very long time. Have seen. Hurts very bad.”

It was a mental picture that made me quiver, but still stronger within me was the desire to be free, to be away from this terrible-feeling place and the people who now had utter control of my life. I could feel north, my home, calling for me, feel the ache of longing, of homesickness, deep within my bones. I was not meant for this place, for the walls, for the chains, for the confinement that made my feet itch with the need to run.

“I want to go home,” I said softly.

Kyo’s frown grew deeper, if possible. “Brother sold you. Must hate you. Why go back where they hate you?”

Why indeed? I didn’t care for any of the others, and they certainly didn’t care for me. All they had ever given me was the hardness of fists and the sharpness of their tongues. Only one person truly grieved for me, loved me as much as I loved her, and it was for her I wanted to return.

“Do you remember that little girl that was with me?” I wondered if I had any chance of talking him into letting me go; I didn't think so, but it didn’t hurt to try. “The little one that looked so long at the Meijin’s horse when you first saw us?”

I could see him thinking back about it, his brow knit in concentration. “I remember.” His hand measured Mai’s height from the floor. “Girl, this big.”

“That’s my sister, Mai. I want to go home to her. She loves me, and needs me. I want to go home and take her away before they sell her, too. I want to take her away and start a new life, just her, and me, where we’ll be safe, and together.”

Again, that frown as he thought. “No. Is bad idea. No safe place from slavers. Will be caught again, punished. Meijin paid too many gold pieces for you not to send guards to look for you. More than other slaves. They will hurt you bringing you back. Can’t escape.”

Desperate, thinking quickly, I tried another tack. “You can come with us. Escape with us. We can live together---you can be my new brother.” Slowly, hesitantly, I dared to place my hand on his forearm, willing him to agree, to feel how sincere I was. And I meant it; if Kyo would help me escape, I’d call him brother and be as good to him as I was to Mai. If he wanted to curl with me in the blankets, and touch my hair as he liked to do, I’d allow it, if only I could be free again.

That made him pause; I could see the thoughts moving behind his dull eyes. But then he carefully, gently removed my hand from his arm, his thick fingers smoothing over my slim ones before releasing them. “No,” he said finally. “Too slow, too stupid. Will get caught, will cause you to get caught. Much punishment. Meijin will have axeman cut off my head for that.” He paused again. “Do not wish to die now, Inochi.”

I blinked in surprise, and my stomach rolled. “The Meijin would kill you? He’d really cut off your head?”

“Yes. For slave to escape is bad, but to help another escape is death. Always. Is rule.”

Hamanari’s rules seemed simple but absolute; I’d seen him have Ryou beat Kyo for something I’d thought simple and harmless. To have death as the penalty for helping another slave escape seemed harsh, but within bounds for the type of business Hamanari ran; he needed an absolute deterrent.

“I don’t want you to die, either, Kyo,” I said at last. The thought made my chest feel tight, and I knew if I were to escape, it would be without involving Kyo...without involving anyone. Haruna had posted guards; even if I could get past Kyo and slip out the window now, Kyo would raise the alarm, and I’d be caught before I even got to the wall. I’d just have to bide my time, to wait a little longer, wait for the opportunity. It would come, I knew; I’d just have to be quick to spot it and act upon it. “I won’t try tonight, Kyo.”

But I didn’t promise not to try again another time.

His worried face relaxed and his mouth lifted in a sunny smile. “Is good then. Wash, then soak, then food, then sleep. Very good. Will make you feel better.”

Maybe it would. It certainly couldn't hurt. I watched as Kyo stripped off his clothes, and threw them into a pile on the floor. He went to the bench and collected an armful of cloths and a couple of scrubbers as well as two round balls of greenish-colored soap. A tiled trough ran along the outside wall, and Kyo knelt inside it after dipping out a couple of buckets from the water heating in a huge kettle, tempering them with cold water from another barrel. I wasn’t certain what to do, as I'd never had a bath like this, so I watched him as he picked up one of the buckets of warm water and dumped it over himself. Picking up the soap and a scrubber, he began scrubbing himself vigorously. He began to hum happily, then to sing again, his sweet voice filling the room.

Self-consciously, I stripped off my old tabi and robe, threw it onto the pile of Kyo’s clothes, and then shivering, followed his example. Once I began, I didn’t want to stop. I’d never had a chance to be really clean; the soap Kana made had been greasy, and left me feeling almost as dirty as before I’d started. This soap felt good and smelled better, like fresh green spring leaves. I washed and scrubbed more than the three times Haruna had told me, rinsing away the dirt and grime with bucket after bucket of warm water that sluiced down the trough and to the outside. I washed and rinsed my hair until it squeaked cleanly beneath my fingers. It was wonderful to clean the grime from my skin; it almost made me feel like a new man.

“Will scrub off skin,” Kyo said with a grin, watching me scrub myself busily. “Leave some to cover bones.”

“I’ve never really been clean,” I said, examining my arms. My skin was naturally a pale golden, but now was bright pink from the abrasive scrubber, and I wondered for a moment if I had scrubbed a little too much. “I like to be clean.”

“Is nice,” Kyo conceded. “Soaking is good, too.”

He rose and stretched hugely, completely unashamed of his bare body. I looked away quickly, knowing it was rude to stare, but it was difficult; I’d never seen anyone as big as Kyo, and certainly had never seen anyone naked, and natural curiosity won out over politeness. He was heavy with muscle, his body easily twice as wide as my own, and his maleness big and imposing, even soft. His broad chest had a whorl of fine black hair, and he had hair beneath his arms and at his groin; I was still as smooth as a child everywhere, though I had grown past childhood and was now a man. I waited until I heard him splash into the tub, and settle himself with a happy sigh, before I looked up again.

“Hurry up,” he said, leaning against the side of the tub and beckoning me with a lazy motion.

Evidently, Kyo had no problem looking at me as I rose and padded over to the tub; I could feel myself blush as his brown eyes followed my every move. I was very thin, and he could count every rib; my hip bones, collarbones, and shoulders were prominent and sharp. I was embarrassed that anyone saw me naked, as no one had before. It was shameful, and I blushed all the harder until I settled into the tub across from him, drawing my knees up to give him more room and helping to hide myself.

“Face always red,” he observed, then stretched out as much as he could with a sigh of contentment and closed his eyes. Satisfied he wasn’t going to say anything else, I allowed myself to relax, to enjoy the heat of the water. It was hot enough to make my skin prickle and turn even more red, but then I became accustomed to it, and let it soak away all my bumps and bruises and sore places I’d gotten from bouncing around in the back of the cart.

I let my long hair hang over the side of the tub, and leaned back, a washing cloth rolled up and cushioning the back of my neck like a pillow. Unbidden, my eyes went back to that high window, and thoughts of escape. The guard was certainly there by now; it was the only secretive way out of this room. I made myself close my eyes; this was not the time, running off wet and naked into nights that were still so very cold. I’d only end up frostbitten, and that would undoubtedly be the best of what would happen to me.

My thoughts turned to other things, instead. “Kyo...were you ever in the pens?”

He was silent a long while. I cracked open an eye, and saw him looking unhappy.

“Yes,” he said slowly. “Was sent to pens when I was this many.” He held up two hands of fingers. “Was son of merchant...father lost all. Was sold by men he owed money. Even then, was big for age. Looked old as you. Was sent to older boys and men pens. Was hurt there.”

His voice dropped, became very soft, very faint, and I had to listen intently to hear him. “Hurt very bad. Broke arm. Broke leg. Broke head. Before...before broke head, could read, and count, and write. Could think good. After broke head, couldn’t do any. Haruna fixed arm and leg, couldn’t fix head. Said brains were all scrambled up. Meijin could have killed me, but kept me. Gave me easy work. Drive cart, take care of new slaves, make camps. When not on trips, help take care of horses. Lift heavy things. No thinking needed for me.”

He paused, ran his fingers through his short wet hair, making it stand on end even more wildly. His voice was very matter of fact, but I could hear a note of frustration, of longing; I was well acquainted with such feelings. “Was smart like you long time ago, but now very stupid sometimes.”

It took a moment to find the words, to work them past the sudden tightness in my throat. “You’re ~not~ stupid, Kyo. You’re not.”

He slanted a surprisingly sharp look my way after a long moment. “Not ugly, then.”

That surprised a laugh out of me. It was shaky, but the first laugh I’d had in longer than I could remember. Kyo grinned, pleased he’d made me laugh, and relaxed back, humming a happy little tune; he couldn’t seem to hold on to any unhappy thought for very long. I almost envied him; my head spun ceaselessly with thoughts and the noise of other ki clamoring for attention.

“Umm...excuse me....”

The soft, light voice made me turn my head. Natsumi stood in the doorway, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other. I tried to duck down below the level of the top of the tub, but it left my bent knees sticking up. Better, I supposed, than anything else, but still enough to make me very uncomfortable. Kyo didn’t move; evidently he had not one shred of modesty.

Natsumi carried a stack of clothing. Blushing furiously, she sat them down on the long table and fled, but stopped just outside the door, as if she remembered something. “Supper will be ready in a very short time. Haruna Sensei says to get out and get dressed so you can eat.” Message delivered, she disappeared and I heard her feet running down the hall again. I wondered if she ever walked, or if she always ran, like a child.

“Am hungry,” Kyo announced, and rose up, water sheeting from his body. I concentrated on my knees as he got out and began to dry himself off. I waited until he was occupied before I got out myself and dried off, wrapping the towel tightly around me. By that time, Kyo had occupied himself by sorting through clothing, separating out things for me to wear.

My pile consisted of a white under robe, which I wrapped about myself as quickly as possible, and a dark blue over robe, both made of sturdy material, the blue faded from repeated washings. As I tied the sash, I was surprised to find they actually fit through the shoulders, and were long enough, reaching down to my ankles, covering me completely, unlike my old robe. Kyo had left another outer robe, one too small for him, and I shrugged into that also, leaving it open. The material was worn and soft, but still thick enough to keep me warm, still better than anything Rei had at home. I sorted through a pile of tabi, found two that matched and fit, and put them on to keep my feet warm.

Kyo waited patiently until I’d combed through my long hair, worked out all the knots, and it rippled down my chest and back, still damp, shining blue-black in the lamplight. After a moment’s consideration, I tucked the comb into my sash; Haruna had given it to me. Kyo’s dark hair was short, and stuck up all over his head in unruly tufts; he didn’t seem to mind it that way, and truly, it had looked much the same dry as wet. I wondered if he cut it himself; it looked as if he had.

“Is pretty,” Kyo said, and reached out to pet my hair, to stroke down my back to the damp ends of it at my waist. “Shiny.”

He seemed to shake himself, then motioned to me to step out. “Don’t make Haruna wait. She yells.”

“I noticed,” I said. “She yells a lot.”

“Has good food, though,” Kyo said thoughtfully. “Meijin gives her good supplies to care for slaves. Natsumi is very good cook. I remember last year when was sick.” His belly rumbled loudly as if to agree.

We went down the hallway and entered one of the rooms I’d seen off the main hallway, the only one with an open door. A couple of large lacquered chests sat next to the walls, probably holding her personal effects; atop one was a fat red vase with an eye-pleasing arrangement of bare black branches, and atop the other a small shrine with candles and the statue of a woman in full robes. I wondered which goddess she was---she looked round-cheeked and cheerful, quite unlike Haruna. A large, low black table dominated the room, surrounded by a few pillows in bright, cheerful colors. Haruna sat there already, sipping fragrant green tea. It surprised me to be eating with Haruna; I had expected to sit on the floor in the kitchen and eat there—wasn’t that the proper place for slaves? Haruna’s bright red eyes studied me.

“Well, sit down,” she said gruffly. “Oh, don’t be shy. Come in and sit. I don’t mind if you’re here—it’s been fifty years since I’ve been a blushing virgin, and come to think of it, I never blushed much then, either. You’ll find I’m not one to pay heed to convention—your company is probably far better than those who call themselves your superiors.”

I sat down to her left and Kyo to her right. The red cushion was soft beneath my knees, an unexpected luxury; I couldn't help but run my fingers through the silky strands of the fat golden tassels at each corner; I'd never seen such a thing before. Then I smelled savory, wonderful scents, and Natsumi brought in a huge tray filled with covered dishes and set them out neatly before us. We had bowls of rice flavored with a clear broth and bits of fish; boiled and roasted vegetables of kinds I’d never seen before; and bits of meat rolled in balls of rice, covered with a crispy greenish leaf of some sort. I had thought Hamanari had fed me well on the trip to this place, but that had been as nothing compared to this. I had never seen such a variety of foodstuffs before, and even in my stories to Mai, I had never imagined such bounty. I wondered if my eyes were as big as I thought them to be.

I knew I had no manners, and so waited before I began, watching Haruna out of the corner of my eye for hints of how to eat the foods I’d never seen before. I’d always eaten with my hands, or with crude spoons. I watched Haruna handle her food with twin sticks; she was quick and deft, and next to her, I felt very clumsy and awkward. I picked up the sticks and them set them down again, knowing I couldn't use them as Haruna did, and looked around for a spoon, as she pushed a blue and white ceramic one in my direction.

“Boy, just eat,” Haruna said gently, her voice for once not booming and loud. “We’ll show you how to handle everything later. The important thing right now is that we feed you. You look like a famine on legs.”

She watched me closely until I’d devoured everything she’d placed on my tray and the bowl of rice besides. I was still hungry, and tried not to look so longingly at the meat and rice balls. I didn’t ask for more; it wasn’t polite, and by all rights, extra food went to her, as the oldest, and if she didn’t want it, to Kyo, as next oldest. I knew very well how ranking worked. Any extra food I had been fortunate enough to get, I passed to Mai and the other younglings, as they always got the least and the last, and I couldn't stand to hear them crying in their pallets at night because their stomachs ached with hunger.

Haruna made a ~hmmph~ sound, and reached out and dumped the few remaining rice balls onto my tray. They smelled wonderful, and I knew they tasted just as good as they smelled. I sat for a moment, then gingerly pushed my tray toward Kyo, offering them to him. Manners seemed to matter as little to him as modesty; he ate with his fingers, ignoring spoons and the eating sticks.

He reached out to take them, but Haruna smacked his hand with a ceramic spoon she seized from the bowl of vegetables. Kyo looked very surprised, rice stuck on his chin and cheek, but pulled back his hand obediently.

“You’ve grown enough,” Haruna said sharply. “He needs them more than you do.”

I blinked in surprise at her action, her words. Kyo didn't seem angry and merely shrugged and went back to scooping out the rice from his bowl. Still, I couldn’t reach out for them. I’d had enough to take the sharp edge from my hunger, and habit made me pause.

“Well?” Haruna’s voice was aggravated as she held her cup of hot green tea. “What now?”

I shifted a little on my knees, cleared my throat. “Natsumi? Has Natsumi eaten yet?” I knew she was younger, and I wanted her to have enough.

Haruna gave a very put-upon sigh. “Natsumi has probably eaten as much as Kyo—she cooked all of this. Besides, she’s round enough. Now eat. I order it.”

So I ate. I ate all the rest of the rice balls and more of the vegetables. By the time I stopped, there was very little left on the table, and I wondered if I would explode. Haruna had sat back with her cup of tea, watching me, and her red eyes were very sharp. I tried not to squirm beneath her close scrutiny, but it was very difficult.

“Have I done something wrong, Sensei?” I finally had to ask. I’d rather know, than guess and be punished for that, also.

“How often did you go hungry?”

I folded my hands into my lap, looked down at them. Though they were now clean, the edges of my nails were very raggedy, not smooth and clipped short like hers. “All the time, except in high summer. Then we all had enough.”

Again, that noncommittal sound, and she didn't look surprised. “You’ll eat here,” she announced firmly. “You’ll eat what we set before you, and more, if you wish. Hamanari may be many things, but he’s never been stingy with food for his slaves. A skinny, malnourished slave brings less money. Besides, you’ll work a lot of it off. If he’s going to force me to be nursemaid to you in addition to everything else I must do, then I’ll expect to get something from it." She took a noisy sip of tea. "Work hard and I’ll treat you well. If you try to escape, I’ll turn you over to Kuroda for punishment; I don’t have time for your foolishness. Whatever circumstances brought you here no longer matter; this is your life now. Accept it. It’ll make things a lot easier.”

I stared down at my clenched hands resting on my thighs. My knuckles were pale against my skin. I knew she spoke truly, but there was enough within me that ached to be free that it was a hard thing to accept.

“Is not bad here if you obey.” I looked up at Kyo’s voice. His homely face was kind. “Could be very bad, like in other places. Don’t run away, and they won’t hurt you. Kuroda-san will punish—does not care how much you want to go home.”

Haruna unfolded herself and got up with a little grunt; her knees cracked. “Home is here, right now. Later, when you’re sold again, home will be there. This is the way of the world, boy. This is your world.”

Sold again, and again, and again, never to have stability, never to have friends that I wouldn’t be forced to leave behind. I felt my eyes burn, but they were dry of tears; I’d never been one to cry much, or easily. But I wanted to. Not now, not in front of them, but later, when I was alone. I’d not had time to grieve, and now, suddenly so tired I could scarcely hold up my head, I felt the heavy weight of the utter despair I’d held off for so many days. I could feel the curse stirring in my head, in the back of my mind, and I squelched it desperately, ferociously before it could emerge, full-blown. The dishes rattled slightly on the table, but nothing broke.

Haruna placed her hand on my head for a fleeting moment as she passed me. “Come, boy. Let’s get you a pallet.”

Silently I rose and followed her slight figure. Kyo followed close behind me. His ki was soothing, simple, unaffected, and helped to calm me a little. Haruna emerged from a storage closet with an armload of blankets bigger than she was, and thrust them into my arms. She had Kyo pick up two rolled up futons and bring them with us.

I wasn’t certain where we were going, but from the smell of the fire, and the clinking of dishes, it was the kitchen. I caught a glimpse of Natsumi; her round cheeks were rosy from working, the long loose sleeves of her robe tied back to keep them out of the way. She flicked a look over at me, then turned back abruptly to her tasks, even more pink. Haruna led me to a small room off the kitchen. It was dark, but my night vision was good, and I could see crocks and jars filling shelves that lined three walls. There was no window.

“This is where you’ll sleep tonight, and every night until I can tell if you’re going to give me trouble.” Her frown was uncompromising. “As I said, I don’t have time for foolishness. When you prove yourself trustworthy, maybe I’ll let you sleep in a regular room without a locking door. The pantry won’t be too cold, and the floor is big enough for you to almost stretch out.”

I nodded. Quietly I unfurled one of the futons, and the scent of herbs in bundles tucked into the folds to keep the futon from smelling so stale rose up to my nose and made me think of the warmth of summertime. If I bunched up one end of the thick futon to make a pillow, it fit on the floor with room for the door to close. Haruna gave me three blankets; they were heavy and soft. I stepped up into the middle of the futon and looked at her. “Thank you, Sensei,” I said softly. I appreciated the kindess represented by the bedding; she could as easily had me sleep on the cold floor without them.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Haruna said darkly. She caught at Kyo’s sleeve when he started forward. “What in Gohei's Hells do you think you’re doing?”

Kyo blinked. “Will sleep.”

“I don’t ~think~ you’ll be sleeping in there, boy.” She pulled at Kyo's arm until he stepped back obediently. The sight of her tugging at him, like a puppy at an adult dog, should have been amusing, but wasn't, given the red flare of her temper.

“Meijin said for me to stay with Inochi. Am staying,” Kyo said, his voice very reasonable.

“You’re staying out here, outside the door. Dammit, Kyo. You’re not sleeping with him. You can stay close enough on the other side of the door.”

For a moment, Kyo looked mulish, but Haruna’s spine stiffened, and her red eyes fairly snapped with fire. Even as small as she was, her wrath was formidable, her ki strong and red. Gracelessly, Kyo backed down, clearly unhappy at her command. Relief slipped over me as he moved back. I hadn’t wanted him to sleep with me; I was afraid the Meijin would find out and beat him again, or do something even worse. I wouldn’t have minded sharing his warmth, but I’d rather be cold than see him punished---I could pull up into memory very easily how the whip had sounded as it cracked across his skin, how he'd cried like a little boy. I remembered how very angry Hamanari had been and his insistence that no one should touch me. I didn’t have any desire to argue that point; I didn’t ~want~ anyone to touch me.

Satisfied Kyo would obey her, Haruna turned back to me. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll find some work for you, build you up, and make you stronger. Keep you out of trouble. For tonight, the door is locked. If you need anything, Kyo is on the other side.”

I nodded at her, and she pulled the heavy wooden door closed. It banged loudly against the jamb, and then I heard the sound of the bolt sliding closed. It left me in utter darkness. For a moment, I felt as if the shelves and all their jars and pots would fall down upon me, but I realized it was only fear and despair making me feel so. I took a couple of deep breaths, reassured myself that yes, there was enough air, and I wouldn’t smother to death. I hated this, hated that Haruna had confined me so, but knew she was justified; I’d run, if I had a chance. At least she hadn’t tied my hands---that, I could not have borne. Just the thought of it made my heart beat hard against my breastbone, and my mouth to dry. I supposed there was always some small thing to be grateful for, and I was very grateful she hadn't done that.

I could hear thumping around outside the door as Kyo made his pallet just outside, and a muttered oath or two. I could tell he was still halfway angry with Haruna, but I knew she was right, and he should stay out there, not with me. I stripped off the two outer robes, folded them as best I could, and patted the futon until I found an empty corner and placed them there. Curling up, I pulled two of the blankets over me, shivering a little. Down at the very bottom of the door, I could see a tiny sliver of reddish firelight. It was a small comfort, and I was not ashamed to take whatever comfort I could find.

I wrapped my arms around myself, drew up into as small a ball as I could manage. My head hurt, and my eyes burned, and my heart felt like a stone, too heavy in my chest. It ached inside there, though at the same time I felt curiously hollow.

I wanted to cry, but could not.

Chapter Five

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