Chidori Learns about Loyalty

1: Chidori and the Child

 The first time Chidori met the child, her breath caught in her throat. It was an odd scene; the boy was perched on the sloping trunk of a willow tree, suspended over the fields at the level of a tall man's shoulder. He was playing a shinobue flute, and the high, lilting tones seemed to tear at Chidori's heart. She stared at the boy, who did not seem aware of her presence. He was too caught up in his music, perhaps, or perhaps he was simply entranced by the view in front of him, Mt Fuji clearly visible despite being many ri distant.

Chidori watched the boy until someone came up and jogged her elbow; she gasped, turning to see her husband, Amari Katsushiro, at her side. Lord Amari was a tall man, and his clan livery suited him. If nothing else, Chidori had to admit that her new husband was a handsome man.

“Ah, there he is,” Lord Amari nodded towards the child, then smiled at Chidori. Chidori did not reply; she did not know who the boy was. Nor did she feel entirely comfortable with this man. She didn't know how she could feel comfortable with a man she was supposed to befriend, but not trust.

“Bennosuke!” Amari called.

The flute's haunting melody ended abruptly as the boy turned to look at them. Chidori thought he was a beautiful child – large, expressive eyes, a snub nose, and a curious expression. And then there was his name; her own older brother's childhood name had been Bennosuke, so the name endeared the child to Chidori immediately. As the boy began to climb down from the tree, Chidori noted that moved the same way as Amari Katsushiro. The way the glanced over his shoulder while descending, for example, was an exact copy of a motion that had become distinctly familiar in the short while she had been Lord Amari's wife. She supposed that the boy must be a relation, of some sort, but one who had not attended the wedding feast. Perhaps he was not from a branch of the family considered sufficiently important to be invited; he was dressed very simply, though of course, even children of the highest class were often dressed simply for play. Or perhaps, Chidori thought, this Bennosuke had not attended because he was so young; perhaps his parents had attended.

The boy ran over to Chidori and Lord Amari, stopping suddenly as he reached them. He looked over at Chidori, drinking her in from head to toe. She felt instantly self-conscious. She wondered if her hair was still neat, if the hem of her kosode had trailed in the mud during the garden walk. And she wondered why a mere child was provoking this sort of nervousness. Perhaps it was the way he looked at her – his eyes seemed to bore into her soul. Whoever this boy was, he wasn't a stupid child. Chidori feared that, if anyone in the household were to figure her out, it would be this boy.

Amari, however, was smiling. “Ah, Chidori, my dear. This is Bennosuke. Amari Bennosuke. My son.”

For the second time that morning, Chidori gasped. Why had nobody told her of this? He own father had talked her into this marriage by pointing out that, regardless of the other reasons Chidori had been sent to be Amari's wife, she would nonetheless have the honour of bearing Amari's heir. Here, however, was an heir ready-made, clearly acknowledged by his father and beloved. Chidori frowned. How could her father not known of this? And if he had known, why had he fed her all those lies about being the mother of Amari's heir? Chidori looked down at the boy stupidly, and he looked up at her, unblinking, unfathomable.

“Go run and play,” Amari said, breaking into Chidori's thoughts. The child performed an awkward half-bow in Chidori's direction, as if trying to be polite enough to please his father without having to be truly welcoming to his father's new wife. Chidori wondered what the boy might have been told about her.

“You have nothing to worry about, you know,” Amari said as he turned to lead Chidori on through the gardens. “She's dead.”

Chidori looked at her husband in confusion.

“The boy's mother,” Amari explained, “She's dead. You needn't worry about having any rivals for my affections.” To Chidori's surprise, the Lord Amari looked unexpectedly sorrowful.

“I assure you, my lord,” Chidori replied smoothly, “The thought never crossed my mind.”

“No?” Amari raised an amused eyebrow. “You looked surprised enough to meet the child. It is only natural you should wonder about his mother.”

“I had not been told you had a child, my lord. That is all.,” Chidori replied. After all, it wasn't as if she were in love with Amari Katsushiro. The boy's mother meant nothing to her.

Amari sighed, but did not comment any further. He continued the garden tour; Chidori followed him.