Ryutaro's London Adventure

The Foolish and the Blind

Despite all the shouting, Susato continued to dress as Ryutaro and to visit Lord van Zieks at his manor. Disregarding her—perhaps wrongful—wishes, she did not stay again at the manor overnight. She stumbled her way through a gauntlet of flimsy excuses, and always managed to slip back home before she was discovered returning at an improper hour.

As for Susato, outside of her disguise, she saw Barok little over the intervening days since their strangely morose encounter at the Baker Street doorway. They had not gone anywhere together nor caught a word alone, which she knew was for the best, even though it pained her.

On this particular day, the sky was unhindered by clouds, and Barok seemed rather eager to remain out of doors. The horses were out at pasture, grazing and flicking their tails laconically. Susato smiled at them as she stood beside Barok. The sun was warm but the breeze was light and cool, so her cap and travelling cape were not too overwhelming. She felt immensely comfortable at his side.

"Would you like to learn how to ride, Ryutaro?" Barok said.

"Yes! It's a gallant skill for a man to have."

"Indeed."

Barok stared at the green fields beyond. Susato looked up at him, studying his face. He had a distant look in his eyes, something almost wistful.

"I have not ridden alongside a friend for many years. In the past, Klint and Lady Baskerville and I would chase each other over these hills on horseback."

Susato smiled. "Who was the better rider?"

And, to her delight and a sharp twist of sadness both, she saw a faint smile brush across Barok's lips. "Lady Baskerville. She had a way with animals that was unparalleled."

"That's surprising! A woman outracing both you and your brother."

"She was an amazing woman," Barok said. His hand hovered over his chest, where his prosecutor's badge would normally be.

"You should bring Iris here," Susato said, voice softening, sliding dangerously towards her regular pitch.

"One day, I would like to," Barok said.

"Have you told her much about her mother?" Susato asked, just managing to maintain her boyish cadence.

"Only when she asks. I do not wish to cause her pain by speaking of a mother she never even had the chance to meet," Barok said.

Susato frowned at the grass. "She might be glad if you offered her the information freely. What girl doesn't want to know about her mother?"

"I wonder if that is how Miss Susato feels," Barok said.

Susato tensed.

"Her mother passed away in childbirth as well. Forgive me. I suppose you know that already, considering your history. I have often wondered how much pain Miss Susato must be in. How much she has not shared. Yet she is so full of warmth and light," Barok said.

Susato's hands balled into fists. Why. Why was he saying this? Why when she could not even earn his smile? Why when he could not possibly love her? His care only increased the tender feelings in her heart for him. It stung.

"Why are you speaking about Susato?" she said, voice low and flinty.

"I would be lying if I said she did not enter my mind more often than I wished," Barok said.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Susato said.

Barok watched the horses silently, expression utterly unreadable.

"She is the last person I would want to think about. It must frustrate you every time she enters your mind," Susato pressed.

"Ryutaro. I do not know if you are simply bitter towards her because of Mr. Mikotoba's hostility, or the threat of a marriage arranged outside of your consent, but there are many reasons as to why Miss Susato would enter a man's mind."

"Like what? What reason could you possibly have to think of her?"

"Susato Mikotoba is a brave woman. Her intelligence and wit are only exceeded by her kindness. She is emotionally wise and she values the hearts of others. She is refined beyond reproach, and her tastes are quite cultured. She makes for pleasant conversation, and she is surprisingly strong. I have seldom met her equal in both sincerity and forthrightness, yet she is never uncouth," Barok said.

"You...really think that? About...About Susato?"

"I am merely stating the truth. Miss Susato is also quite a handsome woman."

"What? You do not think her plain? Childish?"

"Hardly. She is rather striking. A woman that beautiful, I would recognize anywhere."

A sharp pang. Susato glared. "Oh, well, that certainly is not true," she seethed.

Barok looked down at her, a furrow notching his brow.

"You cannot really feel that way about her. I don't know why you're speaking like this. Maybe you are trying to force me to accept the union I abandoned?" Susato said, voice thick with hurt and anger.

"Believe me, that is not the nature of my intentions," Barok said.

"Then what other reason would you have to exaggerate her traits so much?"

"It is no exaggeration."

"It most certainly is. You say you would recognize her anywhere? You would not even know her if she stood in front of you with her hair tucked into a hat!"

Barok stared at her in clear confusion, which made his face look even more severe. "What are you talking about? Are you accusing me of generalizing the Nipponese?"

"Forget it, man," Susato ground out. "I think I had best go."

She could feel a pressure at the back of her eyes. She wanted to escape before she gave into the threat of tears.

"Any regret you are feeling towards the cessation of your union is strictly upon yourself. I have done nothing to aggravate your feelings," Barok said.

I don't understand you. Susato had to have been correct about his intentions. For whatever reason, Barok must have been trying to encourage Ryutaro to take Susato's hand in marriage. It was so absurd one could almost laugh.

"She's returning to Japan, you know," Susato said.

Barok's face did not change but there was a certain rigidity to his posture that had not been there before. "When Ryunosuke Naruhodo returns?"

"No. Sooner than that, I believe."

"You are certain of this?"

"I have to go. Sorry," Susato rushed out. She bowed then hurried back towards the front gate.

Susato slumped into the carriage and let out a slow, heavy breath.

When did I become so foolish?