Journey Through Fire (13 page)

“We must go now,” I said, my voice trembling with anger. The Shogun's mother was not the only person who wanted to be away from this wasp hive. Mother did not try to protest as I led my sister from the room.

I slid open the door to our apartment and tore the wig off my head, throwing it on the floor. “Those women!” I said. Hana was openly crying now, and I shut the door so that no one could see into our room. “Don't let them see you cry. It would just make them happy.” Hana's tears scored her cheeks and she threw herself onto her bed, hiding her face in the crook of her elbow. I tried to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged me off.

Mother stepped into the room. “They do not mean to hurt us,” she said. But her eyes were also shiny with tears and she struggled to meet my gaze. My chest heaved as I struggled to contain my anger and frustration.

“Oh, they mean to hurt us,” I said. I walked over to the window and gazed out at the blooming azalea.
How could a place so full of beauty also contain such hate? A wisp of fresh air encircled me and I suddenly ached to be outside. “We never should have come here.”

“They will accept us eventually. They just need time,” Mother said, sinking down to kneel on a mat. She put her head in her hands and suddenly looked exhausted. I glanced from her to Hana, who still wept.

“Look at what they've done to Hana. How dare they?” I walked to the door of the room and pushed it wide open. I wanted to get far away from those women and the luxurious rooms of the compound. I wanted to be back among people who had no time to be idle or indulge themselves with cruel words.

“What are you doing, Kimi?” Mother asked, looking up, her face worried.

“I'm going to give them a real scandal!” I said, striding out into the walkway.

I
tore down the walkways, pushing past the ladies in their kimonos. I barely registered where I was going, following the twists and turns until I plunged into a huge room at the rear of the compound. Clouds of steam filled the air and terse instructions were being shouted across the wide work surfaces. The kitchen! I thought again about my days working in the kitchen at Master Goku's, when my sister and I were in disguise as peasant serving boys. I remembered the sense of safety and security I felt as Choji set us to work. I strode forward and grabbed a knife from the table.

“Give me something to do,” I said to the nearest person.

A girl the same height as me turned around and looked me up and down, taking in my fine robes. Her eyebrows arched in surprise. “Aren't you the daughter of…” She hesitated when she saw how angry I looked. “Are you lost?” she asked.

A man heaved a basket of vegetables onto the table. I grabbed a handful of spring onions and chopped them up finely. I could see that the servants didn't need my help—they doubtless wondered why the daughter of a noble was down here! But it helped my mood to be doing something other than arranging flowers or adjusting kimonos. All my kitchen training flooded back and I quickly raced through the stems of the onions with the sharp blade. It was instinctive and meditative, and as I worked, I felt the flush disappear from my cheeks and my heartbeat settle.

The girl shrugged and turned back to her own work. I glanced over at her and noticed that she must be about my age. She had a small, button nose and beautiful, high cheekbones. She cast a curious glance back at me.

“What's your name?” I asked, as I reached for a pile of ginger. I started to scrape the skin off with my knife, the pungent aroma filling my nose.

“Emiko,” she said quietly and then hesitated. “What are you doing here? Aren't you one of the court families?”

I gave a hollow laugh. “I don't think the people up there think I'm courtly enough for them. I'm much happier here in the kitchens.”

“But how…?” I knew what Emiko wanted to ask. How did a girl of my breeding know how to handle a kitchen knife?

“It's a long story,” I said.

Emiko gave a smile of understanding. “It's okay,” she said. “I know all about secrets. I won't ask for any more details.” I looked over at her and wondered what secrets she was talking about. Emiko waved the handle of her stubby kitchen knife at my head. “Your hair,” she said. “It's…”

My hand raced to my temple and I realized that I had left my wig behind and the white streak was there for all to see. “I was in a fire, and my hair was burned off. When it grew back…” I shrugged my shoulders.

Emiko grinned. “It suits you,” she said.

Then we both laughed and turned back to our work.

The time passed quickly. Too quickly. An older man approached us as Emiko and I scattered the last of the vegetable dressings over the platters. As I turned to greet him, I slipped the kitchen knife off the bench and hid it in the sleeve of my kimono. Who knew when it would come in useful? I should never have allowed myself to be persuaded to leave my sword behind at the monastery.

“Dinner is soon to be served,” he said. “If you would like to return to the main hall, you may join your fellow diners.” He didn't look directly at me but gazed over the top of my head.

I waited in silence until he eventually brought his glance down at my face.
He hates me for being here,
I thought.
He doesn't think it's right.
But I'd show him—I'd show everyone. If they wanted to use their rules to laugh at me, I would give them something to laugh about.

“I won't be dining tonight,” I said, my voice firm. Servants strode past us, carrying huge platters of steamed rice and vegetables. One man staggered beneath a cauldron of miso soup.

“Won't your mother be asking for you?” the manservant said quietly. His eyes beseeched me to do the “right” thing, the “proper” thing—to go back to my own quarters. I was breaking many codes of conduct being down here, and I could see that it made him uncomfortable. But I would not be moved.

Behind the man I could see a rough wooden table being loaded up with dishes made from the scraps of vegetables deemed too imperfect for the main hall. Steam rose off the food invitingly as the kitchen staff sat on the low benches and reached out with their chopsticks.

I nodded a head in their direction. “I'll be eating here tonight,” I said.

Emiko let out a yip of excitement and raced over to the table. She kneeled and looked over at me, patting the empty space beside her on the floor.

“Excuse me,” I said to the man as I went to walk past him. But he would not give way. I looked up at him and he continued to ignore me. Then I stepped to one side and walked around him.

The food was good. It was simple and filling, and that was all I needed. Chatter billowed up along with the clouds of steam, and Emiko and I laughed as we ate. Occasional thoughts of Mother, Hana, and Moriyasu bubbled into my head, but I quickly pushed them away. Would they be angry with me for abandoning them? For once, I did not care.

As the table was cleared, Emiko led me into a storeroom. “Can you sweep this out while I shift the bags of rice next door? It would win me a few extra moments of free time and I'd be so grateful.” I looked at Emiko and wondered how much time she got to herself.

“Of course,” I said, taking the broom from her. I worked around the room, determined to sweep up every last dot of dirt. It felt good to be using my body again.

When I was done, I walked through to the room next door to find Emiko. She was heaving something into a laundry basket.
What's a laundry basket doing in the kitchens?
I thought. I took a step closer and gasped. Emiko swirled around and stood clumsily in front of the basket, her face flushing red.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

Emiko took a step forward, trying to block my view. “Nothing!” she said with a false brightness.

I pushed past her.

“No!” she cried. But it was too late; I had already seen. A bag of rice sat underneath a crushed pile of linen. I turned back to my new friend. Behind her, the noise and clamor of the kitchen was starting up again as empty plates were brought back down from the main hall. People called out to one another as they rushed to clean up the kitchen. Out there were Emiko's friends. Did any of them know she was a thief? She could be put to death if the authorities found out.

“Why?” I asked quietly. Emiko's glance fell to her hands as her fingers twisted around themselves.

“It's for my family's village, past the protected village around the Shogun's compound,” she said. She darted a desperate look at me. “The Shogun has more food than he knows what to do with. My family is starving! I know the Shogun doesn't realize how Lord Steward Yamamoto is punishing people with hunger, but I have to do something. There's food here to spare. How can I refuse to help my family?”

So this was what she meant by “secrets,”
I realized. I understood Emiko's reasons completely. “Do you work alone?” I asked.

Emiko shook her head. “There's a whole organization of us supplying villages in the estates of your uncle. My family would be dead of starvation by now, if it wasn't for the rice that is eked out of the Shogun's stores. But, Kimi, you mustn't tell anyone. Promise me?”

“I promise,” I said. “And I'll do more than that—I'll help.” I could try to put things right. “What can I do?”

Emiko smiled with relief. “Oh, thank you so much.” She looked around the doorway of the room into the main kitchen. “I need to get the rice out through the laundry room and into the stables. But two of us will get the job done much quicker. We can carry a laundry basket each.” She pulled a second basket off a shelf and shoved a bag of rice beneath a pile of bedsheets. Then she thrust the basket into my arms.

“Ready?” she asked. I nodded once. “Then let's go.”

We left the kitchen by a side door that led into the laundry room. As we passed through, I noticed some of the other servants glance up at us—and then discreetly look away.
They know,
I thought.
They know what's happening and they're turning a blind eye
. I realized for the first time that the politics of the privileged were not so different from life in the kitchens. The compound was riddled with secrets in every corner.

The two of us walked through the heat of the
laundry room and emerged into the fresh air of the evening. The stables were nearby and we walked across the gravel, carrying our baskets. I prayed that no one would see us. Not only would our lives be in danger, but my family would surely never recover from the scandal. The gravel sounded noisily beneath our feet and I flinched when a stable door was suddenly thrown open, lamplight flooding over us. A man waved a hand and we scurried toward him, plunging into the stable just as he pulled the door shut behind us. As the stable door closed, I heard the voices of samurai soldiers outside on their rounds. A moment or two later, and Emiko and I would have been caught. We looked at each other, eyes wide, and let out nervous laughs.

“That was close,” I said.

“Too close,” said the man gruffly. “You must be quicker next time.” Now I could see why Emiko needed help. Every day she was risking her life to help her people. It made my efforts to see the Shogun seem pathetic by comparison.

As we loaded the bags of rice into the man's saddlebags, Emiko and I chatted. It helped to dispel our nerves.

“We get to hear all the gossip as servants,” she explained. “The lords and ladies don't have any discretion when we're around. Do you want to hear
some secrets? Call it payment for your help!” Emiko lowered her voice even more. “Everyone's talking about which clans are going to set their allegiances over the land seizures—with the thunderous Kaminari or with the son of the respected
Jito
. Of course, all the people want to wait to see what the Administrator and Shogun decide. Your family is making big ripples.” I had no idea so much had been going on behind the scenes.

“We hope that the Shogun will help us in our plight,” I said. I decided to take a leap of faith and share my own secrets with my new friend. I told her what had really happened between our father and Uncle Hidehira, about our struggles and the battle to reinstate Moriyasu. I even told her about our vicious cousin Ken-ichi, son of our hated uncle, and how he had tormented us.

“What name did you say?” Emiko asked slowly.

“Ken-ichi,” I said, frowning. “Why?” Emiko packed the last of the rice and buckled the saddle bag.

“I've heard that name,” she said, thinking hard. “Yes! He came here to the compound, begging for entrance, not so long ago.”

My heart beat loudly in my chest. “What happened?” I asked.

Emiko shrugged. “He was turned away. Never seen again.” She opened the stable door a crack and
peered outside. Then she turned and nodded sharply at me. “It's clear. Come on, we can run back to the kitchens.” We waved a hand in farewell at the man who would take the rice to the starving villagers. Then we chased after each other across the gravel of the courtyard, falling through the kitchen doors one after the other.

“You'd better get back to your apartment now,” Emiko said. “Thank you so much.”

“Good-bye, Emiko,” I said, as I turned to the walkway. “And good luck.”

“And you,” she called softly after me.

 

When I arrived back in my rooms, Mother was waiting for me, kneeling by the side of my bed. Moriyasu was deep in sleep, and Hana sighed and turned in her own bed. Mother's face was rigid and she called out no greeting. I walked stiffly over to my bed.

“How could you?” Mother asked, as she stroked a hand over my wig that she had rescued from the floor. “As if things weren't difficult enough for us, people were
outraged
by your absence at dinner. The servants told me you'd found your way to the kitchens. The kitchens!” I tried to take the wig from Mother, but she pulled it out of my grasp.

“You don't deserve this!” she said, her voice colder than I had ever heard before. “You don't deserve
any of the things I've done to help you. Have you no shame?”

I kneeled down next to Mother. “I have shame,” I replied. “I feel shame when I watch those people gorging on rich food. I feel shame when I see how ineffectual I've become. I feel shame when I watch my sister try to hide her scars and when you wince at my short hair. There's plenty of shame in my heart, Mother.” When I finished, I felt a great sense of relief. But it did not change the fact that Mother thought what she wanted was the right thing.

She stood up and walked over to her own bed. As she undressed, she kept her back to me. She lay down in bed and gave me one final look. “You behave like a petulant child, Kimi. When will you learn?” She extinguished her light and the room was plunged into darkness.

I was left to undress blindly. As I laid down on the floor, I could hear Hana sobbing quietly.
I've gone too far,
I thought.
I must learn to control my anger
. Unhappily I turned over and tried to sleep, though I doubted it would come easily.