Fifty Words for Rain(42)
She has a point, but I don’t show it. There’s not much I can do with her, though, and I need to keep her busy. Nori is smart. Smart people with free time are dangerous. I point towards the house. “Go inside. Have you forgotten that Tanaki-san is coming to see you tomorrow?”
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I haven’t forgotten. I just don’t care.”
I clench my fists. “You will be respectful to him,” I warn, though he is a vile little lecher and I don’t like him any more than she does. “He hasn’t seen you since—”
“Since he dragged me out of my house,” she finishes for me. She looks sleepy and bored. “I’ll put on my show for him, Kiyomi-san. Don’t worry. I won’t shame you.”
I relax a little. I’ve been working for Syusuke Tanaki for six years. He is, for lack of a more elegant term, a slaver. He deals in women, mostly, but he is not above selling poor little boys to sick old men. He works for Noriko’s grandfather, who is the shadow king of a criminal empire that is only getting stronger. Tanaki spends his days acquiring girls—by bribing them, bribing their families, or just taking them as he finds them. Under the guise of running a travel agency, he ships them all over the world. The ones he doesn’t, he sends to me. I like to think these are the lucky ones, and I try to make their lives as pleasant as possible. I don’t expect anyone will ever call me a saint. But I have been on the receiving end; I have had a man’s boot pressed to my cheek. I don’t hit my girls, and I don’t allow anyone under thirteen to touch a man. I don’t deal in nine-year-olds, unlike the men who dealt with me.
Nori comes up to me and squeezes my hand. “I won’t give him cause to hurt you, or me, or any of the other girls. I know what I have to do.”
I am shocked by her perception. I have never told her I feared this. She smiles up at me with the smile I taught her, but her eyes are ever honest. She’s afraid.
“Will he visit one of the girls?” she whispers carefully.
I don’t bother lying. Of course she’s heard the gossip. I have dealt with men like him all my life, men whose pleasure comes in forms that most women would never even speak of. Those who don’t mind hurting us or, worse, enjoy it.
I hesitate before speaking. “I won’t give him Miyuki.”
She nods and goes into the house.
* * *
—
The next morning I tell Miyuki to stay out of sight for the rest of the day and assign her to help in the kitchen, which I know will only make her fatter, but it cannot be helped. I need Nori’s best today, and I know I will have a better chance of getting it if she is not worried about her friend.
Once I am dressed and ready, I go to Noriko’s room to make sure she looks presentable. She is wearing an elaborate gold kimono I got her last year, with red dragons embroidered all over it. Her hair is up in a bun. She looks quite pretty.
“Put some makeup on,” I urge, though there isn’t any real need for it; her honey-caramel skin is smooth as a pearl. “At least some lipstick.”
She sighs. “I hate lipstick. It tastes awful.”
“It’s not for eating,” I say crossly. “And it makes you look older.”
She crosses to her vanity and does as I say, pulling out her lone tube of lipstick and brushing it over her lips. “It doesn’t make a difference,” she grumbles. “I still look horrible.”
I sigh because she really believes this. Her abandonment has scarred her, her grandmother has brainwashed her, and she will always see something in the mirror that is not there.
“Hurry up. He doesn’t like to wait.”
She looks at me with blank eyes. “Has my grandmother ordered this?”
I stiffen. “Of course not, she has quite forgotten about you. This is to assess your progress.”
“I have poured tea, I have arranged flowers, I have danced and played the violin,” she goes down the list. “I have quite mastered the art of being useless wallpaper.”
I cannot help but smirk at her sharp cynicism. “But you know nothing about men.”
She shrugs. “I don’t need to know anything about men. I just need to know how to listen.”
She is wrong about this, but I don’t tell her. “Come on.”
She follows me down the hall and into the study, where Tanaki is already waiting for us. He is seated in a high-backed leather chair with Kaori, one of the new girls, perched uncomfortably on his lap. She’s no innocent, I got her from a different brothel, but she’s a pretty thing, and it turns my stomach to see his greasy hands on her.
“Kaori,” I say sharply, “go get us something to drink.”
She looks at me gratefully and jumps up, hurrying out the door. I doubt she’ll be returning and I don’t blame her.
Tanaki raises an eyebrow but does not reproach me. Nori stands a few inches behind me, hands clasped and head bowed.
“It’s good to see you, Kiyomi,” Tanaki says gruffly, standing up and crossing to the front of the desk. His eyes fall on my breasts, as they always do.
I force myself to smile. “It’s lovely to see you, as always, Tanaki-san. I take it you had a pleasant journey?”
He snorts. “I swear the girls get uglier every year.”
“They do seem to.”