Chapter 19 Kaneko #2
And so would many of those around her.
Shame welled within at words that now felt like betrayal.
Yoshi turned to me. “You said you trained in Bara’s darkest corners. Take me there. Train me the way they trained you.”
My heart seized. “Yoshi—”
“I know you have secrets. I know there’s something you’re not telling me about your time in the capital.
” His eyes held mine. “I don’t care what it is.
I don’t care if it’s dangerous or forbidden or if you swore vows you can’t break.
Just . . . help me. Please. This dragon inside me is getting stronger, and I’m terrified of what will happen if I lose control. ”
“I can’t—”
A knock at our door made us both jump.
“Come,” I called, exchanging a wary glance with Yoshi.
Esumi stepped inside, and relief flooded through both of us. Finally, a familiar face.
“Kaneko. Yoshi.” He smiled as he slid the door closed, though exhaustion lined his eyes. “I’m sorry it took so long to come see you. How are you both settling in?”
“It’s . . .” I gestured at the opulent room. “The palace is incredible, like living inside a dream.”
“Nightmares are dreams, too,” Yoshi muttered.
I elbowed him and scowled.
Esumi’s brow furrowed as he moved to the window. “I suppose it differs greatly from Suwa Temple.”
“Different doesn’t begin to cover it,” Yoshi said, and I heard the edge in his voice. “We haven’t seen Haru since we arrived. Is he even still here, or has he forgotten we exist?”
Something flickered in Esumi’s expression—guilt, maybe, or sympathy. “He hasn’t forgotten you. Trust me, you’re one of the few things he still talks about when—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “It’s complicated.”
“Explain it to us, then,” Yoshi demanded. “Explain to us why we left everything to come here with him, and now we’re less than ghosts in this place.”
Esumi sighed and sat on the windowsill, suddenly looking far older than his years.
“I barely see him myself. His mother has him from dawn to midday, drilling him on protocol and ceremony. The war council claims every other moment—generals shouting about strategy, demanding troops or supplies or a thousand other things. Ministers descend like vultures, each with their own crisis. And the courtiers . . . gods, they’re the worst, circling like wolves, trying to figure him out, learn how to best win his favor or marry him off to secure their han’s place in the new Empire.
” He rubbed his face. “Every word he speaks gets dissected for weakness. Most of the time, I watch from across rooms, standing idly beside bored-looking guards, useless, not even allowed to speak in his ‘divine presence.’”
“That sounds . . . like torture,” I said quietly.
“It is. For both of us, if I read his eyes correctly.” Esumi’s smile turned bitter. “You know who I spend the most time with now? His grandmother.”
“The Dowager Empress?” Yoshi blinked. “They say she’s mad as a moon-struck wolf.”
“Aiya.” Esumi’s face brightened. “Gods, that woman. She was apparently born without a filter between her brain and her mouth. Yesterday, she told the Grand Minister his plans sounded like they were conceived by a constipated ox trying to pass a watermelon.”
I choked on air.
Yoshi’s mouth fell open.
“In front of the entire council. Picture it, all the ministers in their courtly robes, a dozen Samurai and generals, all working through plans and schemes to aid the war effort, and in strides the oldest woman in the palace, uninvited, shooing the guards with her blasted cane as they try to stop her from entering,” Esumi continued, grinning now.
“You should have seen their faces. I honestly don’t know how she hasn’t been executed by emperors past for that irreverent tongue of hers.
She once told Takashi—may he rest with the goddess—that his poetry was so bad it made her ears bleed. ”
“And he didn’t have her killed?” Yoshi asked, fascinated despite his anger.
“Gods, no. He laughed.” Esumi’s voice softened. “That’s the thing about Aiya. She says what everyone’s thinking but no one dares give voice. And she does it with such . . . joy. Such life. I adore her almost as much as I do Haru.”
“She sounds remarkable,” I said.
“She is the first ray of dawn’s light after a storm, despite being older than the palace itself.
She’s the only one who treats Haru like he’s still human.
She calls him ‘little fish’ because apparently he was slippery as an infant.
The Grand Minister practically pissed himself the first time she did that in open court.
” Esumi’s smile turned sad. “We’ve only been here for a few days, and she’s the only one who can make Haru laugh.
Even at night, when I’m allowed to sneak into his chamber, he’s not himself. His mind is forever elsewhere.”
“He does have the weight of an empire on his shoulders,” I offered.
“That he does.” Esumi looked between us. “Which is why I’m here. He asked me to check on you both, to see how you were managing.”
“He asked?” Yoshi’s voice cracked slightly. “He could have come himself.”
“He wanted to, but . . .” Esumi spread his hands helplessly.
“It’s not that simple anymore. His every moment is accounted for.
Every action is political. If he carves out time to visit two young men in the eastern wing, people will ask why.
They’ll question his judgment, suggest he’s ignoring more important matters, wonder if you have some hold over him. ”
“That’s ridiculous,” Yoshi said.
“That’s court . . . and you are a Daimyo’s son. It makes your very presence a political affair.” Esumi stood.
Yoshi’s head bowed. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
Esumi nodded slowly, then perked up. “Enough of that. I came to make you both an offer. You have to be bored out of your minds. I know I am. What would you think about training with me? We could start tomorrow morning at dawn, before the palace fully wakes and the war councils begin. Your muscles must be getting stiff from all this luxury and terror.”
Yoshi and I had trained each day, but having Esumi, a near-master, work with us, would certainly add a new challenge. And maybe—just maybe—he would be able to help Yoshi. He trained with Haru, after all. Relief flooded through me. “Yes. Please.”
“I don’t need more kata,” Yoshi huffed. “I need help with my power. I need someone who understands what it’s like to move at speed, to feel like your body is going to tear itself apart if you don’t let the gift out. I need—”
“Haru,” Esumi finished quietly. “I know. And he knows it, too. That’s why .
. .” He hesitated, glancing toward the door as if checking for listeners.
“That’s why I’m going to try to arrange something.
No promises, but . . . he and I talked. Maybe late at night, after the councils finish, or maybe before dawn when fewer eyes watch. We’ll figure something out.”
“Thank you.” Yoshi breathed deeply, hope lighting his face for the first time in days.
“Don’t thank me yet. The palace is a prison for us all right now, even Haru, especially Haru.
Hells, he hasn’t seen a brothel or an alehouse in .
. . I can’t remember when. That alone is probably gnawing at him from the inside.
” Esumi chuckled and moved toward the door, then paused.
“Meet me at the eastern training grounds tomorrow at dawn. Ask any guard, they’ll direct you. And Kaneko?”
“Yes?”
His look was knowing. “Your shadow-taught skills . . . you’ve been holding back. I can see it. Tomorrow, hold nothing back. I am curious to see what you can really do.”
My throat went dry. “I don’t know what you—”
“We all have our secrets, Kaneko, but little remains hidden from his Divine Majesty, the man I sleep beside each night, remember?” His voice was gentle but firm. “Dawn, then? Both of you?”
We nodded.
After Esumi left, Yoshi turned to me, his expression complicated. “Shadow-taught skills? Kaneko, what does that mean?”
“It means . . .” I struggled for words. “It means I’m not just a fisherman’s son who learned basic forms from your uncle. It means there are things I haven’t told you. Things I—”
“Show me.” Yoshi stepped closer. “Not now, not here. Tomorrow. When we train with Esumi. Show me who you really are, Kaneko. I’m tired of secrets, of not knowing who I can trust in this place.”
“You can trust me,” I said fiercely. “Always. No matter what you learn about my past, that won’t change.”
Yoshi actually hesitated and looked away.
When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. “Then prove it tomorrow.”
We spent the rest of the evening in companionable silence, each lost in our own thoughts. Yoshi eventually fell asleep first, his breathing evening out as exhaustion claimed him. I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering what tomorrow would bring.
For the first time since passing beneath Bara’s gates, I felt something other than purposeless boredom. Tomorrow, Yoshi would see what I could really do, and maybe things would start making sense.
The sun had set completely, the room falling into purpling darkness.
I didn’t bother lighting the lanterns. Outside, I could hear boots grinding on packed dirt, orders being barked, the palace grounds transforming even further into a military camp.
My mind wandered to the training ring, to the morning sun on my face, to the weight of weapons in my hands, to—
I felt movement.
I bolted upright, every nerve screaming danger, careful not to jostle Yoshi awake.
In the corner where the darkness pooled deepest, where even the moonlight through the window couldn’t reach, something shifted. A figure stepped forward, black-clad from head to toe, only dark eyes visible through wrappings.
How the hells—?
Had they been there the entire time?
During Esumi’s visit?
While Yoshi and I talked?
My heart hammered so loudly I was certain the guards outside would hear it, but I didn’t cry out. The shadows had found me, here in the Emperor’s own palace, in chambers that should have been safer than any fortress—near where they had found Emperor Takashi poisoned not long ago.
I’d known they would come eventually.
The black cranes had been warnings, preparations.
Now, with the Empire readying for war, they’d decided it was time?
I glanced at Yoshi, still asleep and vulnerable. If I called for guards or fought, he’d wake. He would see. He would know everything.
The figure raised a single finger to its lips in a gesture of silence, then beckoned me closer with its other hand. Despite every instinct to wake Yoshi, to call for help, to fight or resist or do something, I pushed up from our mat and stepped into the shadows.