A Witch, A Knight and The Black Cat

Chapter 7

Clarines was alive with excitement and colors as the Spring Time Festival started. Kids ran about with the sweets and treats while the smell of salty festival food filled the air. The citizens were thrilled to see the beautifully decorated castle grounds and take in the architecture of their ruler's home. There was a play being performed in the ballroom, crafts in the west wing, and games in the courtyard.

Kumiko hated it; the crowds reminded her of her home neighborhood, and the sickly sweet smell of the food was making her already nervous stomach do unsettling flips. She was hiding up her favorite evergreen staring down at the people strolling by with flowers in their hair and bouquets in their hands. Spring was everywhere.

"Gross," Kumiko muttered after getting a whiff of fried squid.

Rubbing at the space under her nose Kumiko leaned against the trunk with a huff. There was still several hours until the contest began and Kumiko had already signed up. All she had to do was wait, and hopefully keep her breakfast down before she picked up a sword.

As Kumiko watched over the festivities a gust of wind rustled through the leaves along with a presence that she had come to expect whenever she was sitting alone in a tree.

"Aren't you suppose to be watching Shirayuki, Obi?" Kumiko questioned.

"I am," the yellow-eyed man said.

He was crouched on the branch just below Kumiko's a toothpick pinched between his teeth.

Kumiko glanced around and caught sight of Shirayuki's red hair across the courtyard with Zen and his aides. They were milling about with the citizens, smiling and exchanging flowers. Kumiko rolled her eyes as she sat on the branch she was standing on.

"Then why are you here?" she inquired.

"Ready for this afternoon?" he asked.

"As ready as I can be," she mumbled.

"Where'd the confidence go?" Obi glanced up at her with an arched brow.

"Don't know," she huffed. "Probably fell out of the tree," she added sarcastically.

"So you plan on losing?" Obi challenged.

"No, I just feel like puking, I don't handle stress well," Kumiko stated.

"You seem calm," he commented.

"Fifteen years of practice," she said.

Combing her fingers through her hair Kumiko took a steadying breath and as she released it Obi appeared next to her on the limb. His usual playful smirk nowhere in sight, instead his eyes were wild while his face was a mask of calm. His one hand was mindlessly toying with his scarf as their gazes locked. Roasted almond against ripe lemon.

"You should stay focused on work," Kumiko said. She could feel her core twist as his eyes stared at her. It was like he was reading her, seeing all her secrets that she wanted to keep buried in her dark alley past.

"You should listen more," Obi said in a gruff tone.

"Have you been talking to Kiki?" she questioned.

"You know Little Mitsuhide not everyone breaks their promises," Obi uttered calmly. His cat-like eyes wild like that of an alley cat about to pounce for its territory.

Kumiko's forehead creased as her back stiffened at Obi's words. It wasn't like him, there was no joke despite the nickname he used. Kumiko was annoyed, nervous, concerned, confused and greatly out of her depth with this man.

"What are you getting at? And it's Kumiko already," she countered.

"Don't hold everyone to Mitsuhide-standards. I'm better than that," Obi explained.

Then he was gone. Dropping out of the tree leaving to follow Shirayuki and the others while Kumiko was left alone with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. She couldn't figure that man out, now she wasn't certain that that dream was really a dream.

Focus Kumiko! Win your sword back, show off, then leave. You don't need anymore trouble, or fake hope, her inner voice yelled at her.

Yanking her hood up Kumiko hopped out of the evergreen and weaved her way through the crowds. Making her way towards the training hall where the contest was going to be held. Others had already started lining up to watch while the participants were checking in.

"Kumiko Lowen," she said to the contest organizer.

The man handed her a sword -wooden of course- and said, "Your number is 6, please step aside, and wait for your first match."

Kumiko nodded as she did what he said. Her hands methodically tying the sheath to her hip as she eyes her competition. There were some potbelly retired guards, common citizens that couldn't tie their sheaths correctly, and a scattered few that looked like they used their sword skills for their living income. It was a fair grouping and she was prepared for the challenges ahead. That was until she heard the first match called.

"Number one and number twenty-eight to the first ring," the announcer said.

As the other two matches were called to the other rings Kumiko stared stunned as she watched the second prince's first aide step onto the match floor. Mitsuhide shook hands with an older man before their match began. As the swords started clashing cheering arose, one particular catching Kumiko's ear.

Glancing around the crowded arena she searched for the owner of the voice, and found her standing in an alcove with Zen, Kiki and Obi. Shirayuki was cheering for Mitsuhide to win with a large grin on her face and hands clapping. All Kumiko could think was that cheering was pointless, Mitsuhide didn't need luck or praise to win. He always won.

And that day was no different. The match was over in under a minute and the fourth match was quickly started. When it came time for Kumiko's first match she was facing off against one of the swords-for-hires and Shirayuki cheered for her too.

Kumiko didn't hesitate when the referee signaled the start of the duel. She started hard and didn't let up on her attacks until the guy was on his knees with his sword skidding across the floor.

"Winner number six," the ref announced.

"Way to go Kumiko," Shirayuki called.

As Kumiko sheathed her weapon she gazed back at the redhead herbalist then to Mitsuhide whose mouth was pinched shut. There was once a time Kumiko could read his expressions, but now as she stared at him she couldn't tell what was running through his mind. Narrowing her gaze her line of sight flickered to Obi who was standing at the back of the group with a crooked gin. Turning away from them Kumiko stomped away to the opposite side of the training hall with a flaring temper.

If that dream was real then Obi wouldn't be standing behind Mitsuhide. He'd be next to me. . .Or at least somewhere else, Kumiko thought bitterly.

AAA

"What's wrong with Kumiko?" Shirayuki wondered aloud. "She won."

"It's personal," Mitsuhide and Obi said in unison.

The two glanced at one another with mild surprise, but Obi was the one who turned away first. Mitsuhide eyed him for a long moment before turning to Zen who was speaking.

"She's probably staying focused for the rest of her matches," the prince said.

Everyone rolled their eyes at him.

"I don't think that's it," Kiki commented.

"Kumiko looked mad," Shirayuki uttered.

"No one told her I was entering," Mitsuhide stated.

"Because Zen told us not to," Shirayuki said.

Mitsuhide glanced at the prince with an exasperated expression. "Then this won't be good," he sighed.

"Really? I think it'll make things interesting," Obi said.

"Me too," Kiki nodded.

"Who's going to win?" Zen questioned to the group.

"The rightful owner of the sword," Obi answered.

"Obi's right," Shirayuki half grinned.