Fifty Words for Rain(30)

Akira gripped her shoulders then, with such force that she wanted to cry out but could not. She was powerless to do anything but look at him with her mouth agape and quivering.

He wasn’t just looking into her eyes anymore; he was looking into the core of her being. And he knew, and she knew, that he could see clear as day all the things that were missing there. She tried to protest but all she could manage was a whimper. It was ignored.

“Do you know what my father would have done if you’d been born under his roof? He would have pulled you out of our mother himself, taken you behind the shed, and bashed your skull against the rocks until it was as soft as a boiled egg. Or, if he were feeling kind, he’d have had you smothered. But you would not be alive and you would not be wearing silks, eating lemon cakes, and being catered to every second of the day. My father’s family is not so great as this one, but they believe in the old ways. If there was ever a bastard child born, believe me, none of them lived long enough to be remembered. You have just turned eleven. Eleven years, you have lived, breathed, eaten, slept, and pissed in porcelain toilets. For God’s sake, Nori, you were going to die from fever and they saved your life. So yes, they hate you. I don’t deny it. They hate you. But that is absolutely no reason you can’t go outside.”

And with that, he released her. She stumbled backwards and instinctively placed a hand on her arm to finger the bruises that would be sure to form shortly.

Whatever had come over Akira, it was gone now. His expression was calm, almost bored. He was losing interest. But not just in this conversation: in her.

Panic surged through her and spurred her previously petrified feet to move. She closed the distance between herself and the door and pressed her palms against the thin paper and wood that separated her from the outside world.

She could hear birds chirping. It was late August, melding slowly into September. The days were not so hot as they were before, but Nori could feel pleasant warmth spreading through her fingertips. She had always thought that her mother would come back for her and lead her outside, with a smile and a “Let’s go home.” That had been her hope, her conviction, her constant prayer.

And she knew now that it wasn’t going to happen. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go outside, because she did. She really, really did. But to take this step, alone, was to acknowledge that the thing she had been so certain of was just a pipe dream. And it was one thing to know it. But to act on it, well . . .

She shut her eyes tight and pushed against the door. It slid to the side with ease, and all at once, the sunshine flooded in.

When she opened her eyes, it took them a long moment to adjust. She stumbled out onto the patio blind. The bricks were scalding and she let out a squeal of pain. Akira’s hands pressed against her lower back and pushed her forward, though his touch was gentler than before.

Her feet weren’t touching stone anymore. They were touching something cool and prickly, but soft. Nori’s eyesight was starting to return, but her vision was still full of white and purple spots.

She dropped to her knees and spread out her hands, letting the blades of grass slide through the gaps between her fingers.

Oh.

She had forgotten the smell of grass.



* * *





AKIKO



I watch them from the doorway, half hidden in shadow. The boy has noticed me, I know he has, but he does not seem concerned by my presence. He sits on the stone bench beneath the old peach tree and observes, as I do. He watches her with absolute calm, his smooth, pretty face betraying nothing of what he might be thinking. He looks like a maiden posing for an oil painting.

She lay on her back in the grass with her dark curls billowed out beneath her, wide-eyed and unblinking, for at least an hour.

The sky is a pristine blue today, as clear and endless as the ocean. The clouds are thick, like spun cream, and float along like wayward ships in the breeze. I can understand her fascination with it. She has not seen the sky now in nearly three years. And to a child, it must seem like a lifetime longer than that. She is captivated.

But now it seems as if she cannot be held still. She is running from one place to the next, covering herself in dirt as she goes. Her white nightgown is not so white anymore, and I am in for a long night of scrubbing the stains out of it. She spent several minutes attempting to pet the fish in the pond and squealing in delight when her fingers touched their colorful scales, covering herself in water and bits of algae. That gown will never come clean and I will be the one who has to explain why she needs a new one. Wonderful. Oh, wait . . . she has moved. Where has she gone now?

Before I can form words to stop her, she is at the birch tree, attempting to climb it. What on earth has come over this child? That tree is a hundred feet high, and she is likely to break her neck.

Her brother gets to her before I can. He moves across the yard like a shot and grabs one of her ankles, yanking her down in one succinct motion. Though he attempts to catch her, he topples underneath her weight and they both fall to the ground in a heap.

Before he can get up, she is off again, this time headed for the peach tree.

“I want one,” she hollers to no one in particular. “Momo ga hoshi!”

The boy is looking at her like he is starting to regret his decision to intervene on her behalf. And what a decision it was. Quite frankly, I am in shock that Yuko-sama agreed to it. If Kohei-sama finds out, that girl will be in for a world of pain she cannot even comprehend.