1 Chapter One - Rina Okinawa
By the time she turned 15, Rina Okinawa learned the art of smiling prettily – bells twinkled, small rounded globs, and every step rippled the air with crisp chiming.
She walked, the path a cobbled thing worn by time and scuffling children, as she'd had for the last 26 years of her life. Rina thought of it often as a twisted snake in a garden of blossoming trees. The last of the brown, dried, withering leaves accompanied her.
She toed them. Winter was fast coming.
In the distance, a woman called out, her hair a complicated masterpiece, she was short and wan but an air of kindness permeated from her pores. This was a woman well lived.
"Rina! The morning rites have begun, your grandfather will not be happy. Come, quickly," the portly woman said.
"I apologize mother," Rina bowed gently.
The woman's hands moved quickly; a confidence born of years of practice. Rina had learned to become numb to the fussing just shy of her tenth birthday. She never bothered to tidy her clothes first, her mother always found something slightly off. Perhaps, her nurturing nature clashed terribly with her sense of pride; her mother forgot sometimes that the opinion of the deeply rooted people of their little town held infinitesimal value compared to the autonomy of her children, only two as they were.
"Smile dear, you know how hateful that gloomy expression of yours is, smile prettily," she tutted.
Rina knew better, so she tugged the muscles into a fixed smile. Mother's fury could flatten a mountain, and she was always best not antagonized before the autumn festival, where her stress knew no bounds.
"Yes, mother."
The rites, in her humble opinion, were an evil procedure. They, meaning the heirs, must unnecessarily pray to the gods, listen to the woes of the common people, grant baseless, useless wishes, and read basic fortunes. She could get away with attending, on a normal day, but the autumn festivals were unavoidable. It had always been the busiest time of the year. Rina rather preferred assignments outside the comforts of her home. However, her presence had always garnered much attention.
So, she smiled prettily for the girls not much older than her, boisterous in their intention to read their love fortune, as if that was the most important part of their lives, as if Rina had nothing better to do than pander to their silly immaturity, as if they had no exams just right around the corner.
Rina spied her third uncle slipping through a side door, his grin mischievous as he made his way around, escaping the elders' notice; a blessing from the gods, no doubt. He threw himself next to her and from within his wide sleeve pulled out a small chocolate; the alcohol coated one she secretly indulged in. Hikaru had always been her favourite uncle for a reason. He was, in many ways, the dark horse of the family – his behaviour sung to her soul and she ached to be like him – Hikaru was handsome in the classical way, narrowed, almond shaped eyes, skin fair as a maiden, tall yet broad, his witty sense of humour charmed the masses. Their family pushed him into this as much as Rina, despite his job as a teacher.
"Rina dear! You look as lovely as always, your mother must be very proud," a middle - aged woman cried out.
She shuffled in their direction, frizzy hair covering her face and that salacious grin thankfully. Her gait was aggressive, practically mowing Rina over with her unbearable hug. She pulled back only to forcefully push her way on the mat; no one was allowed to sit with the priestess unless they were part of the ceremony.
She gritted her teeth, sending her uncle a pleading look, the pretty smile harder to maintain.
"My grandson just finished University. Exceptionally fine lad, if you ask me. The next time you come over with your grandfather I will introduce you."
Rina laughed lightly, hiding the strain in her voice behind a sleeve. Her narrowed stare sent shivers down Rina's back, her beady eyes solely focused on her, and then a glint came to life in the old crone's eyes as they lowered over Rina's robes; the way Mrs Han watched her made an uncomfortable itch spread along her body. If she were a man, her uncles would have already threatened her with veiled promises of pain. But. She must bear with it, at least until the end of festival.
The second Hikaru finished with his own audience made up entirely of a gaggle of schoolgirls, he smoothly wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling Rina over to his side. His large hand, blue veins thick and pulsing on his exposed forearm, stood protectively as clear barrier where the women's shoulders touched.
"Mrs Han, it seems grandmother wishes to chat with you," Hikaru said.
She hemmed and stalled, staring between Rina and her grandmother, holding her own audience of upper-class women, who fancied themselves an edge above all peasants.
"Now Mrs Han," Hikaru added sharply.
The crone jumped, cringing away from the pair, paled complexion infused with a tomato red flush, spread lavishly across her cheeks and neck. She exclaimed, made her stuttered excuses and trotted to the other side of the room.
Rina couldn't exactly slump over with the many eyes on her, but she allowed the tension to bleed out, seeking comfort in her uncle's warmth. She pulled away, her mother's gaze having strayed one too many times in their direction.
"Your fans are as overzealous as usual, when do you think she'll realise her grandson isn't exactly into the opposite gender? " Hikaru whispered conspiratorially, the sleeve hiding his smugness.
Rina shushed him, pinching his thigh under the guise of bowing to an elderly couple she found rather adorable. They greeted her warmly but otherwise minded their own business; Rina could always count on their mindfulness.
"Watch what you say, grandfather might start pestering me again."
Hikaru detached the light green fan attached to his waist, flipping it open dramatically, he moved it lazily then covered half of his face; to hide the quirked, smug smile he no doubt had on. The elders wouldn't be too happy if they perceived them to be enjoying themselves even a little, the stuck-up bastards.
"Who will keep you company if I get married?" She mused, lightly tapping her chin with her own red plumed fan.
"Must you always raise such troubling questions? Your uncles are too stiff.'"
Hikaru clutched his chest, his lips pouting like a duck.
Rina rolled her eyes. She noticed the hyper girls heading for them, their shrieks not long behind.
"Shouldn't you take care of your own suitors first?"
"Hikaru! Oh Hikaru, we missed you so much!"
The next group that assailed them were her uncle's own dedicated group of schoolgirls. They were young and excitable. Once upon a time Rina was a senior in the same school, she was used to their clamour, her uncle wasn't. It was a sight to watch him slowly grow irritated yet flustered.
Her uncle slipped her another chocolate, a silent plea in his own eyes. Rina considered her options; she could let him suffer, get back for that awful prank he'd pulled when he died her hair chicken yellow; or she could steer the girls away. Oh hell, she will never be able to get back at him. Rina chided the group gently and they quietened immediately.
The rest of the day crawled by painfully. Rina's duty was merely a figure head, except for the Kagura ritual. Before her brother had sprouted into a bean stalk, when he'd been baby faced, Rina often bullied him into taking over. They were of similar built and they shared their father's looks uncannily.
Nowadays, he was too manly to be mistaken for anything but what he was.
"Rina, you look so lovely. Did your brother give you my gift yet?"
The young woman was dressed in a deep blue kimono, her features were all noble sharp angles, and her bearing was so magnificent people stared after her. She took Rina's hand, subtly slipping a piece of paper in her palm.
"Sister-in-law is way prettier than me, how's my little nephew doing?"
Rina pressed her hand to the swollen belly, giggling at the light kick she could feel.
"Ouch, he still likes you the most, if only he wouldn't kick."
Rina chuckled.
"Only a month left," she whispered.
Rina's mother chose that moment to call her sharply. She sighed, gathered her robes and stomped off after embracing Kiana one last time.
"Good luck love, I'll be watching from the front seat with Rintaro."
Her mother fussed around her, fixing her robes, slipping on the headdress, heavy intricate metal.
"You'll do well."
Rina tugged on her sleeve, pecking her cheek when she turned.
Legs numb, she beat the blood into circulating again. She could perform the ritual in her sleep, she'd done it so many times it had become as easy as breathing. The slow moves and gentle turns, all building up steadily for her famous leaps and the spontaneous burst of high paced dancing – there's a reason why everyone came to watch Rina. She'd learned the dance from her father, who'd learned it from his. Apparently, it'd been bestowed by a fairy; Aria still thinks it's a bullshit story, despite being a priestess whose main job was exorcising evil spirits.
Her bells jingled and the sleeves of her kimono flew up in a perfect arc, her raised leg perfectly straight. She bowed deeply, swiftly exciting the stage once excused.
On her way off the platform someone stood out in that way that a glaring crocodile would in a swarm of sheep – a woman, very seductive, the definition of a temptress. It's not her appearance that drew Rina's eyes in; it's the smile, wholly satisfied and proud, like she found a treasure and she'd engraved it as hers.
Possessive, if Rina had word to describe her it would be possessive. Rina made a note to warn her uncles.
Her older brother greeted Rina backstage, carefully removing the heavy ceremonial robes.
"You dance better than father now," he said.
He leaned down, kissing her forehead, guiding Rina out through the back, a hand in the small of her back.
"They'll want you on the floor with uncle, go now."
Rina shook her head. She stood on her toes, pecking his cheek and whispered her thanks before sprinting off into the dark, his bell – like laugh following her. Her uncles and brother spoiled Rina too much, even at the ripe age of 26.
