Chapter 9: Help the People

I made a few head nods while staring at the scribbles intensely—thoughtfully, like scholars did. Or at least how I imagined, anyway. After a couple of aha's and I see's, I closed my eyes in silent reflection. I was like a sagacious monk, and I began to feel the wisdom of the spirits flow freely within me.

When I opened my eyes, Masami had her palm smacked against her forehead. It had seemed my ruse had failed, and horribly. The shugenja rotated the manuscript in my hand while shaking her head.

"Baka! You were reading it upside down! How could you..." She paused, realizing a possibility she had never considered. But how could she, when everyone in her social circle wasn't just literate, but a published scholar?

Masami's dramatic gasp was entirely unnecessary, and caused me to shift uneasily. "...you can't read?! How is that possible?"

It's entirely possible! So what if I wasn't literate? I'd made it this far without it being an issue. Not every child in Hyuga had access to teachers, especially not the ones who lacked parents in the first place. I had been more concerned about my next meal than memorizing silly symbols. Still was.

So why was I being so defensive?

The shugenja couldn't let the topic drop. Her mind still staggered from the fact that not everyone was as well-read on satirical poetry as she was. "Being illiterate—is horrendous! There are countless legends to experience, innumerable insights to grasp! By delving into one's imagination, one could vicariously live a hundred lives! No, a thousand!"

I wasn't entirely sure what 'vicariously' meant, but one life was more than enough for me. I'd rather Masami speed up this lecture so she could tell me why this piece of paper was so important.

"Save the lesson for when we're out of the city. I want to know why this thing caused you to sneak off in the middle of the night. Without your bodyguard." It felt like she had managed to avoid this question for an hour or more, and my voice was starting to grow hoarse from our spirited conversation.

This kabuki house drama was about to end.

Failing to enlighten me on the wonders of the written word, Masami spoke up in a rejected tone. "It is a royal summons, Akio. That seal is the Emperor's own mark—and was in our chambers at the Sleeping Duck when I first arrived. It requests my presence at a particular temple, after midnight when the moon begins its decline."

This didn't make sense. I made damn sure that nobody knew of our destination during our two-week travel to Yamato—I even avoided the main roads and backtracked in case we were being tailed. And here I thought I was being needlessly cautious, when we'd been expected this whole time?

The kid's next remark threw my mind into a flurry. "It's addressed by a woman named Toshie. I don't recall the name from—Akio?" My shock didn't go unnoticed upon hearing the all-too-familiar name. Masami gave it a good guess. "Are you and her acquaintances, perchance?"

"Something like that." It was a name that belonged to someone I was trying to forget, a dishonest bride-to-be who used me and didn't even have the decency to pay up afterwards. A shinobi ringleader who I wanted as far away from the kid as possible.

I was feeling several emotions right about now, but the strongest by far was that of being seriously pissed off. This invitation had "trap" written over it more than a Jijinto loan shark.

"This is obviously a trap, you idiot!"

My hand tightened around her wrist, which I pinned up against a nearby column. I had acted without thinking—whether it was out of concern for her well-being or frustration for her childish stupidity I couldn't say. She yelped in pain, which caused me to release all power in my grip. Something wasn't right.

Not with her, but with me. Yelps never stopped me before.

"Ow! You're hurting me!" Masami untangled her hand to reveal a reddish mark. I hadn't squeezed that hard. "The atrocious sunrays have sensitized my skin. But that aside, I forbid you from laying hands on my person!" She blew air on the stinging wound in an attempt to cool the burning sensation I had managed to amplify.

The words came out before I could think. "I'm sorry, Masami." My eyes lit up in shock after I realized what I had spoken. The words were so foreign; so completely out of character for me that I questioned if I had truly said them. I couldn't help but wonder.

When was the last time I apologized, to anyone?

I knew enough about my miniature shugenja to know that arguing any further was a waste of time. And time was a luxury we didn't have much of—we had already spent far too much time chattering. My voice was growing hoarse, but I still had one more question to ask.

The question I couldn't help but obsess over ever since we entered this theater.

"Why didn't you take me with you?"

I could have sworn that my voice echoed against the walls of this empty, wooden chamber. It resounded into a delicate whisper, admitting the empathy that I had tried so hard to conceal. I was a jaded old man—or at least I felt like one—who knew all too well that compassion ultimately led to one misery after another.

But I still asked. And I waited patiently for Masami's response. Eventually it came in the form of an embarrassed mumble. "Because I...wanted to prove that I'm not just a helpless kid. I wanted you to see me as..." She trailed off into silence, but her words caused me to smile.

I picked up a nearby ryō that was on the floor, and stared at my golden reflection before tossing it back to my employer.

"You paid for a bodyguard. Might as well get your money's worth."