Red Winter (The Red Winter Trilogy Book 1), Page 3

  “With the yokai, if you get an answer, you … might not like it as much,” she finished lamely.

  “Huh.” The taller girl looked her over. “You’re a miko, right? I don’t remember you from the summer festival.”

  “No way we would’ve missed you with that hair,” the other girl said with a laugh. “It’s so long.”

  Emi self-consciously touched the side of her head. Her black hair fell past her hips, bound neatly at the nape of her neck with a white cloth tie.

  “I just arrived today. I’ll be staying here for a couple months.”

  “Welcome to Kiroibara!” the taller girl chirped, referring to the town a mile south of the shrine. “I work at the ice cream parlor next to the grocery store. Come by some time and I’ll get you a free ice cream cone.”

  “Oh.” Emi blinked, taking a moment too long to respond. “Thank you. That would be very nice.”

  “We should go. My dad is waiting in the car.” She winked. “Maybe tomorrow my prayers will be answered and Yasu will finally ask me out.”

  Together they hurried back across the grounds, blitzing right through the torii without the tiniest bow. Emi stared after them. Their so-serious prayers had been about a boy? She’d assumed a sick loved one, or at the very least an important exam.

  Shaking her head, she glanced at the shrine. Once upon a time, she’d yearned for a boy’s attention—but she’d never prayed for it. What a waste of the kami’s time.

  She turned around, and as though summoned by her errant thoughts, Katsuo was standing there, watching her.

  Yelping, she stumbled back and almost tripped on the hem of her hakama.

  “Katsuo! Don’t sneak up on me!”

  “I didn’t sneak. I just walked.”

  She scowled, eyeing him. His uniform—dark violet hakama pants and a long-sleeved kosode shirt—was standard for a sohei of an Amaterasu shrine. A long, sleeveless haori overcoat in an even darker shade of purple brushed the snow as he moved, and a black, beaded tie kept the open front in place. The hilt of a katana poked out of the haori at his hip.

  “Kannushi Fujimoto sent me to find you,” he continued. He sounded perfectly polite but his gaze moved continuously over her face as though searching for something. “Dinner is ready.”

  “Ah. Right.”

  “Uh.” He hesitated, brushing his hair away from his eyes. “Emi, I wanted to—I mean, um, my lady …”

  “Emi is fine,” she said faintly. The sight of him roiled her emotions all over again.

  “Emi.” His smile quickly faded. “I—I know it must have been a shock to see me again. I didn’t know you weren’t told that I’d been assigned to … Um. I just wanted to …”

  “I—I need to pray before dinner,” she said in a rush. “Excuse me.”

  His face fell as she sped past him. At the water fountain, where a trickle of water poured continuously from a bamboo spout, she used the long-handled ladle to scoop the icy water from the basin. First she poured it across her left hand, then her right, and then dribbled some into her palm so she could take a sip. Replacing the ladle, she returned to the main hall and ascended the steps. Katsuo hadn’t moved, his expression unreadable as he watched her.

  Ring the bell. Bow twice. Clap twice. She put her hands together and tilted her head down, eyes closed.

  Amaterasu, please help me get through the next two months. We’re almost there. Thank you for protecting me. And, as always, thank you for choosing me.

  She almost asked the kami to help her with Fujimoto and Nanako—and maybe Katsuo too—but she figured the shrine’s caretakers were her problem to deal with. She’d rather Amaterasu focus whatever power she had to spare on keeping Emi safe.

  She’s just the first one who’s lived this long … Grimacing, Emi pushed Nanako’s bitter words away. After nearly ten years, she had a mere seven weeks to get through, and then there would be no danger—mundane or supernatural—that could threaten her.

  As she stood with her head bowed, the gentle feeling of a foreign presence washed through her. A subtle warmth over her heart infused her skin and spread through her chest. The whisper of Amaterasu’s presence brushed across her mind, pulsing with a wordless message. But she could feel the meaning behind it:

  Urgency. Warning. Caution.

  She froze. The message whispered inside her for a few moments longer before the kami’s presence faded and she was alone in her skin again. She waited, the seconds ticking past, but it didn’t return. Letting out a long breath, she bowed again and straightened, lowering her hands to her sides. She’d felt the kami’s presence once or twice a year for the last ten years, but that was the strongest she’d ever felt it—and never before had Amaterasu tried to warn her. Warn her of what? To be careful in general, or of something—or someone—in particular?

  Katsuo was still waiting when she descended the steps to the path. Snow swirled down, dampening all sound. The silence almost made her feel like unseen ears were listening in, waiting for her or Katsuo to speak. Maybe she was just feeling jumpy after Amaterasu’s warning.

  Fidgeting with the hilt of his sword, he watched her approach.

  “Have you had a tour yet?” The stilted delivery of his question suggested it wasn’t what he’d really wanted to ask.

  Her gaze dropped to the ground. “Not yet.”

  “It’s too late now—and Miko Nanako will skin me if we’re any later—but I can show you around tomorrow.”

  Emi pressed her lips together, afraid to look up. There was no nice way to say she didn’t want to spend time with him. The memories must not haunt him the way they haunted her. They must not torment him. He hadn’t heard Hana’s final scream. He hadn’t looked into her eyes in that last moment, hadn’t seen the terror that ran all the way down to her soul before she vanished beneath the churning water.

  He hadn’t felt her desperately clutching hand slip from his numb fingers.

  “We shouldn’t keep Miko Nanako waiting,” she said, sliding her composed mask into place.

  The weight of his attention remained on her for a few more heartbeats before he started back toward the house. At the footbridge, he paused to walk beside her again, but she determinedly strode ahead, gaze fixed on the garden and the glowing windows of the house. She only staggered a little when her toe caught on a board in the middle, but she didn’t even panic. Definite improvement. She had this.

  As she reached the end of the bridge, a splash in the water shattered the quiet stillness.

  Terror sent her heart into a wild, pounding frenzy as she leaped like a frightened rabbit. She landed on the snow-coated stone path and her feet slid in opposite directions. The ground rushed toward her face.

  Strong arms clasped her middle, sweeping her up and back onto her feet. For a single heartbeat, Katsuo’s arms were around her, his warmth like the heat of a fire against her back.

  By the time her brain caught up, he’d released her, backed away, and bowed deeply in apology.

  “Forgive me, my lady,” he intoned without rising from his bow.

  “What—what was it?”

  “The sound was a koi breaking the surface of the pond. I assure you that you are safe.”

  A koi? She glanced past him at the pond, her heart still hammering. How big were the fish in the pond that they could make such a loud splash? Her cheeks grew hot. Panicking over a fish, how humiliating. She looked back at Katsuo. He was still bent in a bow of apology. Though he was her guardian, he was as forbidden to touch her as Fujimoto was—except in emergencies. A koi didn’t count as an emergency, though her imminent collision with the stone pathway probably had.

  “It’s fine, Katsuo,” she said quickly, waving him up with as much dignity as she could muster. “Thank you for catching me. I will be more careful in the future.”

  He straightened, smiling with a charming hint of shyness, his cheeks slightly flushed.

  She bit the inside of her cheek and hurried toward the house ahead of him, not knowing what else to
say. Suddenly, she was eager for Nanako’s icy eyes and knife-sharp tones. Dealing with the miko’s sneers and glares would give her plenty to think about besides Katsuo.

  How difficult would it be to avoid a bodyguard dedicated solely to ensuring her utmost safety every moment of the day?

  Her shoulders drooped. It would be a long two months.

  Chapter 3

  Emi gritted her teeth. How was she supposed to meditate with all this noise?

  Steel collided against steel in an ear-splitting clang and a male voice shouted a laugh. Another ringing clang, grunts, clang clang, thump. Her eyes tried to open but she scrunched them closed as though that would block out the sound. Her thigh muscles twitched with tension and she wiggled on her cushion without uncrossing her legs.

  Clang, clang, thud.

  “Ooooh!” Katsuo called with far more volume than necessary. “That was a cheap move, Minoru.”

  “Only because you didn’t see it coming.”

  Her eyes flew open. Untangling her legs, she rose and slapped at the wrinkles in her hakama; she hadn’t done quite as excellent a job of folding them yesterday as she’d thought. From her closet, she selected a haori—a heavy, open-fronted kimono for outdoor wear—and slipped it on. Pulling her ponytail over her shoulder, she ran her hands down the full length of her hair to smooth it and released a long breath. Only when she was sure she could resist the urge to shout did she slide her door open and step onto the walkway.

  Bright sunlight bathed the garden, glimmering on the thin layer of snow. Glad that the air didn’t have the same wintry bite as yesterday, she turned down the hall to the entryway, where she donned her sandals. Outside the door, the racket of blades and clashing bodies was even more obnoxious. A stand of trees, their red and yellow leaves peeking out from beneath their white frosting, separated the house from the sparring sohei, perhaps giving them the idea that their noise wouldn’t disturb her—an idea she was about to thoroughly debunk.

  She strode down the path, away from the house, already planning her lecture in her head, when quiet giggles brought her to a stop. She turned, eyebrows furrowed. A couple yards off the path, in a thick clump of bushes, a flash of red was just visible through the foliage.

  Her heart jumped into her throat before logic took over. Dangerous yokai couldn’t enter the shrine of a kami—especially not the shrine of an Amatsukami. And even if it were a yokai, it would hardly wear bright red clothing and giggle like a schoolgirl. Well … it was possible, but not likely.

  She stepped off the path. Hidden in the bushes, two girls in miko uniform were crouched in the snow, their attention wholly fixed on the perfect view of the glen on the other side of the trees. Katsuo held his katana low and grinned at Minoru as the older sohei casually passed his bladed staff from hand to hand. The tale of their sparring was written on the grass where their feet had melted the snow, leaving clear tracks across the large clearing.

  Minoru widened his stance and lowered the blade of his staff toward Katsuo, but before he could settle into position, his gaze snapped to Emi. He brought his staff up and gave a small bow.

  “Good morning, my lady,” he called.

  Katsuo glanced over at her and jerked upright from his battle stance.

  “Emi!” he exclaimed. Was his face flushed from exertion, or was he blushing again? “What are you doing?”

  Minoru frowned at his younger counterpart. Emi blinked, unsure how to answer, and looked down at the two girls. They stared up at her, mouths slack, still crouched behind the bushes. An awkward silence fell across the garden.

  With a bright laugh, the older of the two girls jumped to her feet. Both sohei started in surprise at her sudden appearance. The girl waved energetically at them and threw her other arm around Emi’s shoulders.

  “Ah, Katsuo! Minoru! Good morning. We were just giving the lady a tour of the shrine.” She squeezed Emi’s shoulders and threw her a beaming smile that clearly said, “You blew our cover, so you’d better play along.” The second girl rose as well, her face glowing with a spectacular blush.

  The girl holding Emi prisoner by the shoulders gestured grandly around them. “Now that you’ve seen the house, we’ll show you the stable. Do you like horses? We have four: three mares and a gelding.”

  Still talking about horses, she forcefully steered Emi back onto the path. The other girl trailed behind them, her gaze fixed on her toes, while Katsuo and Minoru mutely stared after them. The girl attached to Emi chatted loudly until the sohei were out of sight. A minute later, the clang of weapons resumed.

  The girl dropped her arm off Emi and rolled her eyes so violently that her head wobbled on her neck. “Did you have to be so obvious? They had no idea we were watching until you decided to stand there in plain view.”

  “I didn’t realize what you were doing until Minoru had already spotted me.” Emi wasn’t sure whether she was defending herself or apologizing.

  “Now we’ll have to find a new way to watch them.” She humphed, not slowing her pace as they walked past the garden onto a dirt path that headed north, away from the house. “I’m Rina, by the way. This is Yui.”

  She pointed over her shoulder at the other girl, who ogled Emi wordlessly. Her thick-rimmed glasses magnified her eyes, making her stare even more uncomfortable. Her hair was shoulder length, barely long enough to tie back in the miko ponytail, and her tiny frame was almost lost in the wide sleeves of her white kimono and billowing red hakama.

  “We were at school yesterday when you arrived, and Nanako didn’t want us at your first dinner.” With another overzealous eye roll, Rina tucked her long, side-swept bangs behind her ear. “Who knows why. She gets pissy over the wind blowing the wrong way.”

  It sounded like Emi wasn’t the sole recipient of Nanako’s bad attitude.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Emi said, taking advantage of Rina’s first real pause. “I’m—”

  “Kimura Emi,” Rina interrupted in grand tones. “The kamigakari of Amaterasu, Amatsukami of the Wind, bringer of joy and spring, wielder of cyclones and storms. We know. We knew about you even before Kannushi Fujimoto told us you were staying here until the ceremony. Every miko in every Amaterasu shrine knows your name.”

  A tiny voice muttered something behind them.

  Rina stopped with a huff. “Speak up, Yui. We can’t hear you when you whisper like that.”

  Yui clamped her hands together. “Do you really have the kami’s mark?” she asked, her volume only a fraction louder than the first time.

  Emi nodded and pressed a hand to her kimono over her chest. “Yes. It appeared when I was eight, the morning after the winter solstice.”

  “Can we see it?” Rina asked, her face alight with curiosity.

  “S-see it?” Emi gaped. No one had ever asked that before. Hadn’t Rina seen her indicate her chest—as in the spot right above her cleavage? “It’s, uh, not in a place that … I mean, it wouldn’t be appropriate to—”

  “Never mind.” Rina waved her hand and resumed walking. “So what’s it like being the kamigakari? I bet you have it really easy, huh? No one’s gonna put you to work. You’re too important for that.”

  Emi reluctantly followed the girl. Overhanging trees closed in around the path—wilder trees that no longer had the groomed look of a garden. The house was out of sight behind her and neither sohei had followed them. Some guardians.

  “How much farther?” Emi asked. “The stable is still within the shrine grounds, isn’t it?”

  “Of course,” Rina said dismissively. “It’s right around this bend. I know you can’t leave the grounds without your sohei.”

  The girl led the way around a sharp left turn in the path. The forest opened up into a small, fenced-in pasture with a simple stable in front. Four horses grazed on the snow-dusted grass—two browns, a bay with dark stockings and a black muzzle, and a black with one white sock. The bay lifted its head and whinnied at them, but the other three kept their noses to the ground, munching single-mindedly
.

  Rina walked up to the wooden fence and put her back to it, resting her elbows on the faded white paint of the top rail. She grinned at Emi. “So, Miss Kamigakari, what’s it like?”

  Emi suppressed a grimace. She’d hoped Rina would forget that line of questioning. “It’s similar to being a miko but with more … restrictions.”

  “The restrictions can’t be that bad.” Rina kicked at a clump of grass. “You get spoiled, right? Handsome sohei at your beck and call and other miko doing all your chores so nothing strenuous can affect your health. I mean, come on. That sounds pretty awesome.”

  Trying not to frown, Emi looked across the pasture at the horses. Heedless of the snow, the bay had returned to its forages. The day was already warming. By lunch hour, the snow would probably be gone.

  “There are some luxuries, I suppose,” Emi mumbled.

  “The kamigakari has to remain pure,” Yui whispered at her hands as she twisted them together, “so she can receive the kami’s power and spirit. She must bathe twice a day, meditate before and after sleeping, eat only wholesome food, drink only purified water. She must maintain a clean and pure spirit, as well as body, and abstain from evil or impure thoughts or urges.”

  “Have you been memorizing textbooks again?” Rina muttered to Yui before smirking at Emi. “Impure urges, huh? So, I guess we shouldn’t invite you to watch the sohei practice then. They’ve only been here for a week, but they’ve sparred twice every day so far.”

  Emi winced as old memories struggled to break free. She wouldn’t be sneaking around to watch sohei train. She’d made that mistake once. Never again.

  “Wait,” Rina said thoughtfully. “Is that why the envoy from Shion made such a big deal about how only miko can touch you?” Her voice went breathy with disbelief. “You mean men aren’t allowed to touch you at all?”