Fifty Words for Rain(116)

I will see him again.

I open my eyes and look into his, hoping that they will say all of the things that I don’t have time to. Somehow, I know that whatever I say now will be the last words I am granted. This is the end of my miracle. I take his hand in mine, even as some invisible force pulls me away.

“You are my sun.”

He pulls my hand up to his lips and kisses it. And then he smiles at me. Even as the darkness comes up behind him to swallow everything, I can see it, the memory of his beautiful smile. But I can still hear. It is faint over the sudden ringing in my ears but it is there. I hear his response.

And you are mine.



* * *





The next day, Nori faced her grandmother again. The marks on her arms were concealed by the sweeping sleeves of her white kimono. Her hair was parted in the middle and straightened, falling to her waist. She stood straight and proud.

The fear was gone.

Yuko’s face was tight and sour. “I thought you would have left by now.”

“I have come to give you my answer.”

Her grandmother scoffed. “Well then. Don’t keep me in suspense.”

Nori drew in a deep breath. “My answer is yes.”

Yuko’s eyes went wide. “You . . . you will do it?”

“I will.”

“Praise be,” her grandmother breathed. For a brief moment she seemed to come back to life. “God has spoken to you, hasn’t he? He has shown you your destiny is to serve our family? You have come to see what I have always tried to show you?”

Nori folded her hands in front of her. “My reasons are my own.”


I will change this family, Oniichan. I will rid it of fear and of hate, and fill it with humanity and love. I will use my power to help the powerless, as I have always been. I will restore true honor to our name.

Just as you wanted, just as you would have done in my place. I swear it.

And when my work on earth is done, I will come to you.

Please wait for me.

In the garden.





Kyoto, Japan

December 1965

The child was born in the Kamiza estate, on the fifth day of December.

God’s ways were mysterious indeed, for it was perfectly healthy, with fair skin, a full head of curly, sandy-brown hair, and its mother’s amber eyes. Everyone remarked on what a beautiful baby it was.

More importantly, the child was a boy.

Yuko declared it was a sign from God that the house was blessed. She was so delighted that a healthy male child had been born that she hardly cared his father was a foreign nothing and his mother was her once despised half-breed granddaughter. Her frantic need to see her house restored was the only thing keeping her alive, for by all medical accounts she should have been dead already.

“If you can have a bastard boy,” she said, by way of a messenger, “you can have a trueborn son with your husband. I am pleased with you, granddaughter. Ask for any favor and it is yours.”

The nurse offered her the baby once he was cleaned and swaddled, but Nori shook her head.

“Give him to Akiko-san,” she said quietly.

She turned to the messenger. “And tell my grandmother I would call in my favor.”

“Yes, my lady?” he asked.

“Send someone to find my mother,” she said simply. “And if she is alive, bring her home.”

The man nodded and scurried from the room.

Akiko bustled forward and took the little bundle from the nurse’s arms.

“He is a beautiful boy. I will love him well. I will take every care, little madam. I promise.”

“I know,” Nori said warmly. She was still hazy from the drugs they’d given her for the pain. “I would trust no one else with him.”

Akiko had been the one to ready the nursery, to make the baby clothes, to think of names. But the names she thought of were only for girls.

Akiko hesitated. “Are you sure you don’t want to hold him?”

Nori turned her face away.

In truth, she couldn’t stand to touch him. Her choice had made him a bastard. Her choice had made him fatherless. Her choice had made him the first son, but the one who could never inherit anything, who would forever be in the shadow of his younger brother. His half brother. The son she would have by her carefully selected future husband.

One day, this boy would be old enough to understand. He would want an explanation and she had none to give.

Noah had received nothing but a curt letter, full of lies that she loved him no longer and a plea for him to forget her. She sincerely hoped that he would not notice the tearstains on the page. She hoped that he would hate her, that his humiliation and his rage would sustain him for a time until she became nothing more than a distant memory.

He was young, barely twenty, and she told herself that he would recover from this.

She did not allow herself to think of the alternative.

Because the alternative made her a monster.

Alice had received a deeper glimpse into the truth, but they would probably never see each other again.

She had broken her promise to stay. She was a Judas to those who had loved her most.

These were just the first sacrifices she’d made in pursuit of her chosen path.

She knew there would be others.

“Take him to his room and feed him,” she said, and she did her best not to sound as cold as she felt.