Fifty Words for Rain(33)

Nori watched her grandmother leave as quickly as she had come in stunned silence.

When Akiko arrived a few minutes later, carrying a large cardboard box, Nori was finally able to react.

“Are those for me?”

“Yes, little madam.”

She scrambled over to the box, peering inside with a mixture of suspicion and joy. She could not help but let out a little squeal of delight as she began pulling things out.

Everything was lovely, but it was the kimonos that truly took her breath away. There were four of them, each more beautiful than the last. One was a shimmering gray, with a pattern of swirling clouds embroidered all along the fabric and a dark purple obi sash. The next was pale pink silk, with a pattern of butterflies on the train and sleeves. The third was sky blue with white and yellow flowers in a slanting pattern down the skirt, like a cascading waterfall.

But the fourth was her favorite. It was made of a simple cream-colored silk, with silver thread detailing the edges. The sleeves were bell-shaped and touched the floor. The obi was a gentle shade of peach, just like her favorite tree in the garden.

There were also fans and pearls—white, gray, black, and pink—but those hardly interested her either. While there was no doubt that they were beautiful—and very valuable—she was not accustomed to jewelry.

Akiko only allowed her a moment to fuss over her new possessions. The guests would be arriving shortly, and it would not do to be late.

“Who is coming, Akiko-san?” she asked. She did not dare speculate.

The maid looked down at her feet. “I don’t know. But mind your manners. And come here, let me fix that hair.”

Nori elected to wear the cream kimono, and she told Akiko to put her hair up in a bun like her grandmother’s. It was then tied with her most precious white ribbon, which she did not like to wear often for fear it would get dirty. But if people were coming to see her, important people, then what else was she saving it for?

Akiko pulled out a tiny tube of red lipstick and brushed it across Nori’s lips. “There you are, little madam.”

Nori looked in the mirror. She looked considerably less awful than she normally did. “Are we going now?”

“Yes, my lady.”

Akiko held out her hand, and Nori took it, taking comfort in the familiar rapport that had developed between them over the years.

They descended the stairs, and Nori could not help but recall how terrified she’d been at this very moment just a few brief months ago. So much had changed that she could still scarcely believe it.

Just before they rounded the corner, Akiko released her hand. Nori offered up a tiny smile. Akiko’s dark eyes filled with something unreadable. For a moment, the maid hesitated, but only for a moment and then she was gone.

Nori saw the woman first. It was hard to miss her: she was absolutely beautiful. She was tall and shapely, with her ample bosom on full display in a kimono that had been modified to be especially revealing. Her face was painted white and her lips red. She looked like a porcelain doll.

It took her a little while longer to notice the man. He was sitting in the corner against the window, calmly sipping at his tea. He was wearing a dark gray three-piece suit and glasses. He was missing most of his hair, and what little he did have left was combed over to one side of his head, like a little cluster of grass on a barren sidewalk.

Her grandmother stood quietly in the opposite corner, face half hidden by her trademark fan.

Not knowing what else to do, Nori dropped into a bow, taking extra care to mind her posture.

The woman let out a chuckle, and Nori was surprised that such a feminine-looking person had such a low, brassy voice.

“You must be Noriko.”

Nori straightened up and nodded. The woman was smiling at her, a brazen and unabashed smile that Nori was unaccustomed to. But she could not help but smile back.

“I’m Kiyomi,” she said pleasantly. “It’s very nice to finally meet you. Come closer, child. Let me look at you.”

Nori did as she was told and, in the process, caught a whiff of Kiyomi’s perfume. She smelled like cinnamon. Kiyomi looked Nori up and down, from her toes to the crown of her head. “Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing. Very . . . exotic. Lovely eyes.”

Nori had to suppress the intense urge to fidget. “Thank you very much, madam.”

Kiyomi laughed again and ran a long finger with the nail painted bright red underneath Nori’s chin. Years of conditioning taught her not to pull away. “How old are you again?”

“Eleven.”

“Eleven,” Kiyomi mumbled, shooting the man in the corner a sly glance. “Young. Malleable. But they can be troublesome at this age. Crying and whatnot.”

“I assure you,” her grandmother interjected, with her usual coolness, “she has been very well trained.”

The man rose from his chair, and Nori noticed that he was very short, almost as short as she was. He had fat fingers with an abundance of hair growing on the knuckles, and she could not help but hope that he would refrain from touching her.

“She’s pretty,” he announced, to no one in particular. “Seems well-mannered enough. Halfway educated, I assume? Can she make tea? Read poetry?”

Her grandmother swatted her fan against her wrist, a telltale sign that she was irritated.

“You know very well that I would have nothing less, Syusuke. Are you interested, or are you going to continue to waste my time?”