Loving Jiro (11 page)

Kiara dropped onto the bench. Jiro and his grandfather thought they were shielding Ayumi from the dangers of the western world, but she knew so much already about death and killing. How could that be healthy? “I don't understand. I would think he would not do that type of work because it was risky.” She didn't want to outline how risky, like the fact that someone could retaliate and kill him or his family. She shivered at the thought. She had already seen firsthand the guards present at all times on the grounds.

"It's because of what happened to my parents,” she explained. “My other brother, Jiro-san's twin, was supposed to protect them, to handle the threat against my family. He wouldn't do it, and Jiro-san was the second son. When Ichiro-san died, the responsibility fell on Jiro-san. He promised Grandfather that he would get the people responsible for my parents’ and my brother's deaths."

"How do you know that?"

She had the grace to blush. “I listen at doors sometimes.” A laugh escaped her, and she covered her mouth.

"What?"

Ayumi giggled for a few minutes before answering. “You know how all the decorations are Japanese style?"

Kiara nodded. “Yes?"

"We used to have the paper walls too, between rooms. Grandfather is stuck in the old ways. Well, it was because I kept hearing things I shouldn't that he let Jiro-san arrange for the real walls we have now. To keep my nose where it doesn't belong. That's what Grandfather said."

Kiara laughed. All kids did the same, she didn't doubt, but her grandfather had done right by putting up walls that were harder for her to hear through. Then again, she had already heard enough and apparently, she was still learning more.

"You said you sometimes feel suffocated by the rules,” Kiara reminded her. “What did you mean?"

Ayumi ducked, bit her lip and jumped from her seat. Kiara resisted dissolving into laughter again. Something had the girl almost jumping out of her skin. Normally, she'd bounce off the walls knowing Jiro would be back soon.

She twirled about the clearing edge, touching a fingertip to branches along the way. Finally, she stopped and faced Kiara. “I like a boy."

"You like a boy?” Kiara searched her mind. Ayumi was never away from a family member or her bodyguard. She had a private instructor. When would she have ever come in contact with a boy her age? Kiara prayed the girl hadn't developed a crush on a servant, but she couldn't remember seeing any Ayumi's age. She had no thoughts of the family being better than the servants, but Ayumi's family did. Her grandfather would order someone's death. She shivered at the thought, not knowing really if he was that ‘trigger happy'. “What boy, Ayumi?"

"Do you remember my birthday party?” She seemed about to chew her lip off. Kiara pulled it from between her teeth with a nod. “My cousin came, the one who lives in Los Angeles. Grandfather hates it, but they live freer than we do. He says they're almost Americanized, that the only way he can tell the difference is that they still have slanted eyes.” She chuckled.

Kiara frowned. “Are you telling me you have a crush on your cousin?"

"Ew, no!” She made a face like she would throw up, reminding Kiara that no matter how mature Ayumi behaved, she was still a young child. “Not my cousin, his friend. Remember, he brought his friend with him?"

Kiara stiffened. “His blond haired, blue-eyed friend?"

She nodded miserably. “I've been talking to him on the phone."

"What! Ayumi, you realize you're only ten years old. You're too young to have a boyfriend.” Kiara tried not to lecture, or to let on that her fear was more for the fact that the boy was white than anything else. As busy as Ayumi was in personality, she was still an innocent. No doubt she had been drawn by the contrast in the boy's looks to hers.
Part of what excites me about Jiro, I know that. Among other things.

But the girl's grandfather, and her brother for that matter, would hit the roof. Jiro was not as hard-nosed as his grandfather, but he was still all Japanese. It was likely he would cut off the innocent friendship and hurt poor Ayumi in the process, damaging their great relationship.

"Sweetie,” Kiara began. “Your brother would hit the roof if he heard that you had a crush on a wh ... uh ... that boy. What am I saying? He lives in Los Angeles, you said. Maybe occasional phone calls are okay."

"He's going to be here tonight,” she blurted.

"Ayumi..."

She launched herself into Kiara's arms. “Can you tell Jiro-san to let me be friends with him, Kiara? We have the kiddie dance, and Luke already asked me to dance with him. And also, we can join up to be partners in the chess tournament later. Everybody's staying over, so I thought I could go horseback riding with him too."

You're ten. This is not date weekend!
Kiara took a deep breath and put Ayumi back into her seat beside her. “Sweetie, I don't know what influence you think I have over your brother, but believe me, I can't
tell
him to do anything. And as I said, you're ten. You can be friends, but..."

Ayumi grunted and bounced impatiently. Kiara did one of Jiro's tricks by raising her eyebrow. The girl settled immediately. She felt guilty afterward for using the trick. Ayumi should feel she could be free with Kiara, and she wanted that for her.

"Kiara, the fact that you live in our house tells me my brother thinks you're great."

"Why is that?"

She smiled. “Because when my adult cousins and uncles come, if they bring a woman who's ... you know ... they don't stay in our house. Grandfather won't allow it."

This was news to Kiara. “Where do they stay?"

"In the guest house.” She pointed over her shoulder, although nothing but trees was viewable.

Kiara remembered seeing a house not quite as large as the main house, but close, on the grounds at the back. She had meant to ask Jiro who lived there, but forgot to. When he walked with her in the evenings, he never took her that way, and so far, she had managed to avoid horseback riding. The stables were in that direction also. Jiro's lands went on for many acres. She wondered how the guards could keep watch over it all.

"Oh,” she muttered. “Well, that still doesn't prove that he will let you be friends with this boy. I will have to think about how to handle this and talk to him later. You, young lady, calm down. You're still very young and have a long road ahead of you. There's plenty of time later for liking boys."

She was shocked to see the stubborn set to Ayumi's mouth and hoped she had handled the situation right. Teaching kids art didn't equate to her knowing how to raise them, or to handle situations like this. She worried that she should make sure to tell Jiro but at the same time, she didn't want to break Ayumi's trust. Jiro surely wouldn't let the girl get too close with her cousin's friend.

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The house was filled to capacity with guests. Kiara had been wide-eyed most of the afternoon and into the evening at the variety of dresses and styles. She knew from what Ayumi had told her that while the guests could arrive in western clothing popular in America, at the formal evening, all would honor Ayumi's grandfather with more traditional clothing.

She shuffled over to her full length mirror to take in her own outfit. Her verdict was official. The kimono did not suit her, and she was becoming increasingly annoyed that her thighs could not move farther apart in the restrictive costume. She only hoped the festivities didn't last all night. Maybe she could slip away early.

For the millionth time, she wobbled over to the window to look out. Her room had a narrow view of the driveway, and she couldn't help watching for when Jiro arrived. He was late.

Somewhere in the house, a gong sounded and music began playing. Kiara knew from Ayumi's birthday party that the music playing now was
Minyo
, Japanese folksongs. Her family would sing heartily for a few rounds, and then it would change to
Shakuhachi
, the flutelike instrument one of her uncles liked to play. Kiara preferred his playing. The music spoke to her soul.

She left her room reluctantly and followed the voices toward a room decked everywhere in beautiful scented flowers. The fragrance almost made her head spin. Tables around the room were laden with dishes of maki rolls, miso soup and teriyaki chicken. Seeing the chicken, she was relieved. As yet, she hadn't developed a taste for sushi, no matter how many kinds the housekeeper and her staff had laid out.

No one acknowledged her, but then not many acknowledged certain of the women either. She had a feeling she knew who they were. Mistresses or just someone to warm the rich business men's beds for the night. She was surprised to see that there were plenty of other races present, including black. Apparently Grandfather respected those he did business with, even if they weren't Japanese. Yet, all were dressed in the traditional garb.

"
Kanpai
!” someone yelled. Teacups rose. Kiara followed suit. Something Japanese she didn't catch was said and all raised their cups to Grandfather. She spotted the old man near the head of the room, surrounded by other pompous old men who looked like they were just as firmly wedged into the past as he was.

After too many toasts by men determined to impress Jiro's grandfather, the assembly finally began to drift to different parts of the house. Grandfather disappeared with his devotees, and the music started up again. Kiara glanced around trying to spot Ayumi, but saw that none of the children seemed to be present.

She touched a female servant's arm to ask. “Do you know where Ayumi and the other kids are?"

The woman barely acknowledged her. “The children are not allowed in this gathering. They have their own celebration in the back.” With that, she walked away.

Kiara would have gone to search for Ayumi except someone linked his fingers with hers. She gasped and looked around to find an older man, foreign but not Japanese, grinning at her. He might not speak English, but she didn't need to speak his language to know a proposition when she heard one.

She tugged at her hand, but the man held on, moving closer. His breath smelled stale, and she barely ducked away from a kiss while he wrapped an arm about her waist.

"Please, I am with someone,” she told him.

He giggled like an idiot. When his hand lowered to her ass, she lifted her arm to elbow him in the side. Someone calling out caught both their attention before she could make contact.

Jiro stood with the sternest look she had ever seen on his face. His eyes were black slits, and his nostrils were flared. His lips had all but disappeared they were so tight. Her heart pounded in excitement and fear. She was glad to see him, and scared that he assumed she wanted this old creep to touch her.

His eyebrows shot up. Someone whispered something to the man holding her too fast for her to catch, a person who hadn't said anything before Jiro showed up. The man's hands dropped to his sides. Jiro crooked a finger to her, indicating that she should come to him. Kiara wasn't about to shame him in front of everyone and refuse to go.

She shuffled up to him and stared straight ahead at his chest. Odell used to get a special pleasure out of humiliating her in front of others. A few times, he had even hit her in front of his friends. She had cried while they laughed and called her stupid and ugly. These memories fresh in her mind, she stood still, waiting for the hammer to fall from Jiro. This situation had never arisen. There was no telling what his reaction would be.

He brought his hands up to her waist, and she jumped. The music started. A woman's voice sang a modern love song, and Jiro pulled Kiara tight against his body. He kissed her neck. “You didn't invite him to touch you?"

"No, never."

"Good, because you're mine. I do not share my woman. Do you understand?"

She tried to pull away, resenting his tone and his words, but he held on. When she wouldn't look at him, he forced her head up. “I said, do you understand?"

"Yes.” Tears spilled down her cheeks.

He flipped her around so that she faced the door and swatted her butt. “Go to your room, and wait for me. I'll be there shortly."

As Kiara worked through the crowd to the door, she saw the knowing looks for those who would look her in the eyes. The others turned their noses up as she passed by them. She didn't realize how close Jiro was behind her until she drew alongside the man who had touched her. Jiro stepped around her, blocking her view of the man and said something to him. He gestured to a door leading to the gardens. The man preceded him out into the dark night.

Kiara took a step in that direction, but the crowd closed the gap. From the look of it, she would have to make a scene to get through, so she turned and left by the door into the hall. Instead of heading right toward her bedroom, she turned left to the front door. When she stepped outside, the chilly fall air cut through her clothing. A guard eyed her briefly before tucking a cigarette between his lips and disappearing into the night.

She ran on tiptoe around the house to the side where Jiro had gone with the man. Hearing no sounds except the call of an owl and the muffled music and laughter from inside, she searched the area. A path led back to the guest house and the stables. She followed it.

Shouts reached her ears. As she drew nearer, someone cried out. She stopped, shaking from head to toe, and not from the cold. Around a bend, lights from the guest house came into view. In an upstairs window where someone had forgotten to draw the blinds, a pretty Asian woman stripped sensuously. She no doubt had an audience in the room where she was, and one lingering in the trees too unless Kiara missed her guess at what the stilled hulk was nearby. She moved past him.

At a tree halfway between the guest house and the stables, Kiara came across Jiro. He stood in front of the man who had touched her with two guards at his side. The man was bent forward holding his stomach. She cried out and slapped a hand over her mouth. Jiro turned to look her way. She couldn't see his expression, but imagined the anger that must have registered there.

She bolted, running as fast as her clothing allowed. Jiro caught her before she had taken half a dozen steps and swept her up into his arms. She fought against his strength, but it was pointless.