Fifty Words for Rain(38)

Nori bowed her head and said nothing.



* * *





The next morning, Kiyomi summoned Nori to her room.

It was surprisingly messy for a woman who was always so put together. Clothes were scattered on the floor, and at least a dozen cosmetics lay strewn across the vanity. Kiyomi was dressed in a simple red kimono. Her hair was down, her face was freshly scrubbed, and she looked . . . young. Almost innocent. Nori had never noticed before, but the woman in front of her had kind eyes.

“So,” Kiyomi said, gesturing for Nori to join her at the card table. “How are you adjusting?”

Nori balked at her. “You can’t mean that.”

“But I do,” the woman said, quite matter-of-factly. “Look, I don’t expect you to love it here. But there’s no reason this should be harder than it needs to be. I take it your room is comfortable?”

“Yes,” Nori said, her suspicion mounting. “It is. Thank you.”

“Good.”

The door opened, and one of the girls came in carrying a tea tray. She placed it down in front of them, and Kiyomi smiled and patted her hand.

“Thank you, Rinko.”

The girl nodded and left as quickly as she’d come.

“Now,” Kiyomi said. “Pour the tea, please.”

Nori did. She was proud of the fact that her hands didn’t shake.

This earned her an approving nod. “You move well. You have a natural grace.”

Nori flushed. “I . . . I do?”

Kiyomi laughed. “Not used to compliments, I see. I wasn’t either.”

Nori fidgeted. “Why . . . why did you ask me to come here? For . . . for tea?”

This didn’t seem like much of a lesson, though admittedly she was relieved. She’d been afraid she’d be expected to hear horrid stories or, worse, do . . . those things. Like the others.

The madam had clearly read her mind. “No one will touch you,” she said simply. “Later, I will teach you some dances and songs. Flower arranging, tea ceremonies, and the like. But for today I just want to talk to you. You must become well versed in the art of conversation.”

“I didn’t know conversation was an art.”

Kiyomi wagged a finger. “For a woman, everything is an art. I’ll make sure you learn that soon enough.”

Nori caught a glimpse of her reflection in her tea. The weight of all that had happened settled squarely on her shoulders.

She was driven to ill-advised honesty. “I don’t think I want to be a woman,” she whispered.

Kiyomi gave her a long look. For a moment, she looked as if she too could feel the invisible burden.

“Ah, my dear,” she said, with a smile that did not reach her eyes. “Someone has to do it.”



* * *





Nori did not sleep that night. The night air was sticky hot, though it was well into October. As far as Nori could tell, the heat decided to linger just to annoy her. Her room had no windows, and she rarely ventured outside, except for her required duties, the occasional meal, or to use the bathroom. The other girls all ate together at assigned mealtimes, but not Nori. When she wanted to eat, which was usually only once a day, she would wander down to the kitchen and tell the gruff men with tattooed arms what she wanted. They looked at her like she was a rat that had scurried into the cupboards to steal cheese, but they always gave her what she asked for. She usually ate in her room. It had a door that led directly to the outside area, where, far past the tables arranged for the guests, there was a little grove of trees that offered much-needed shade. Sometimes, if she was feeling up to it, she would eat out there or sit in the grass and knit. No one ever went back there, it seemed, and though it was nothing special to look at, it was a place she could feel slightly less caged.

The heat became too much. She threw off her nightgown and wrapped herself in nothing but a silk robe—one of her grandmother’s parting gifts to her. The expensive fabric was cool against her skin. Not for the first time, she wondered why so much time and money had been put into her. Surely her grandmother could have just had her killed and been done with it. The only thing Nori could think of was that death was too quick. She had to be punished for the sins of her mother and father, for the sins of countrymen she had never known, for the sins of all the unwanted girls who had gone before her. Certainly, that was a great many people and it would take more than one lifetime to atone.

She put her hair on top of her head, winding her long plait and pinning it with three sturdy pins. It was nice to feel the air on her neck. She opened the sliding door that led to the patio and headed for the spot beneath the trees.

It was no cooler, but it was somehow still comforting. The quiet helped to numb her further. Nori had realized soon after her arrival here that that was the only way to survive. She pulled her knees up to her chest and let the grass slide between her outstretched fingers. She had neither energy nor faith left to pray, but in her most private moments, she whispered to no one that everything would turn out right.

This night, a voice answered.

“Who’re you talking to?” the voice said.

Nori whirled around wildly, her eyes struggling to find the source of the sound. It was not a god or a savior. Rather, it was a chubby girl wearing an ugly pink robe. The girl smiled at her and stuck out her hand, which was covered in ink that didn’t look entirely dry. Her smile revealed a large gap between her two front teeth.