Himitsu (Book One of the Kakureta Hana series)

IV: Shi

It has been almost a month, and when the heat of the day does not drive us to find shade, I show Rika how to properly hold a dagger.  I have found that the exercise distracts me from the questions that have flooded in since Ryuu rode off to battle.

Now, in the darkness of night, I lay on the futon that I should be sharing with him, and the press of those questions dig themselves into my mind.  They drive sleep away and frustrate me all the more with the knowledge that I cannot prove solutions to any of them.

When sheer weariness forces me to stop thinking about the future and its many possibilities, I roll onto my side, considering the idea of walking down to Rika's rooms.  However, if this is one of the nights that she has actually managed to find the embrace of sleep, I do not wish to wake her.  The separation between Junichi and her has been just as hard for her to handle, and I worry every day that if he does not return soon, Rika will fade away to nothing.

The scent of wisteria blossoms drift through the open window, and their innocent smell triggers the memories of fingers digging deep into my throat.  With a cry, I jump up and wrap my robe tighter about my shoulders.  Hands shaking, I reach for a candle and light it, the faint circle of light driving away the demons that have returned in vengeance now that Ryuu is no longer there to shield me.

The candle trembles in my hand, spilling melted wax on my skin, but I do not even feel the pain.  Rather, I stare at the mess with dull eyes before sitting down on the futon.  I remember the light in my hand and stand back up to set it on the low desk.

I am picking at the hard wax on my hand when I hear a thud in the hall.  Reaching for the dagger on the floor, I rise and approach the door, the memories still rushing through my head with every step that I take towards the hall.

I open the door and fling myself out of the room, figuring that whoever was out there would know that someone had to have heard them by now.  My mind barely registers the figure before my dagger is pressed against the soft flesh of their throat.  However, instead of fighting like I would have expected, the person turns their head to study me in what little light there is.

"Amachi Junichi?  What are you doing here?"  His voice confirms what I suspected, and I remove my dagger from his neck.

"I am not Jun," I answer.  "He is currently on the battlefield with my husband, Igarashi Ryuu."

Fujioka Ichirou nods before gesturing towards the room I had vacated.  "You must be Sakura then.  Would you mind retrieving the candle from your room?  I would like to see my sister, but I fear that she might attack me as well if she cannot see who I am."

I retrieve the light as well as set my dagger next to the futon again.  When the faint glow of the candle falls across the eldest son of the shogun, I can see the strain of battle in his face.  He must have ridden hard without stopping to shave or likely even to rest.

He does not question my perusal, likely expecting it from someone that he believes has never met him before.  In fact, his eyes are tracing my features just as intently as I am his.  "You do look remarkable like Junichi.  Father had mentioned the similarities between the two of you, and now that I see you, I can hardly believe that you are not related in any way."

"It was a simple enough mistake to make in the dark, milord.  Shall we make our way to your sister's rooms before daybreak beats us there?"

Ichirou takes the candle from my hand.  "You need not call me milord if you will allow me to call you Sakura.  I am Fujioka Ichirou, the shogun's eldest son, and Ichirou is fine."

"Very well, Ichirou."

He smiles kindly.  "I can say that I am surprised that you have not asked me about Ryuu and the fact that I am here instead of on the battlefield."