Fifty Words for Rain(51)

She spent most of her time wandering around the house, trying to stay out of the servants’ way. They were not unkind to her. They called her Ojosama or “madam.”

But it was clear that she made them uncomfortable. From what Akira had told her, their former master, his uncle, would be turning in his grave to know that she was in his house, eating at his table, being served and honored.

She retreated, as she always did, to the garden. It wasn’t in the best shape—the trees needed pruning, and the flowers needed weeding. There was moss atop the water in the fountain, and the bushes were overrun with animals and droppings.

It was clear nobody went back there anymore.

Still, there were some ancient trees that she liked to sit under. Sometimes she would have a book of poetry or ancient myths, other times a language book as she tried to improve the English that her brother spoke so well. She hated to be behind him. She was always trying to keep up. She wanted to be useful to him so badly that she could taste the desire in her mouth.

Other times she would practice her violin. It wasn’t so difficult for her anymore; even Akira had begrudgingly admitted that she shared some—some—of his natural talent. She could play some of his favorite pieces now, and when he was home, he would lean on the other side of the wide oak tree and listen to her.

He never praised her—this was asking for too much—but the tender way that he stroked her hair when she was done made her heart soar.

Today, Akira was out, starting the process to obtain forged documents for Nori; it was the easiest way since she had no birth certificate. With papers, she could pretend she was a person. Just in case negotiations went sour and they had to flee after all.

He’d taken a picture of her for the documents, and so for the very first time, she’d found herself smiling shyly into the lens of a black metal box.

Nori was feeling unusually cheerful. Akira had told her to stop moping and she was doing her best, trying to keep busy. She was in the garden making flower crowns when the woman in blue, who had greeted her when she first arrived, came out to check on her.

She always wore the same color kimono. Nori could only assume that she was in charge of the rest of the staff.

She bowed her head. “My lady. It’s time for your pills.”

Nori frowned. Ever since her “accident”—that’s what they were calling it now—she’d been forced to take pills to prevent infection. They tasted like chalk.

“No, thank you.”

The woman inclined her head. She was pretty and looked to be around twenty or twenty-one. “I’m afraid that the master was quite insistent. Please come inside and take them.”

“Oh, is Oniichan home?”

“No, he’s out. But he entrusted me with this task.”

Nori jutted out her bottom lip. “Did he say anything else?”

“He says bedtime is at ten. And to eat all of your dinner, not just the rice.”

She shoved down her irritation. “When is he coming back?”

“Morning, I think. He’s at our old estate.”

Nori frowned. “ ‘Our’?”

The woman said nothing. Nori looked at her as if seeing her for the first time.

“Who are you?”

She ducked her head. “My name is Ayame. I served in your . . . in Akira-sama’s father’s household. Since I was a child. When he decided to reestablish a household here, he asked me to run it.”

Nori had to resist the urge to let all her questions spill out of her mouth at once. “How long have you known my brother, then?”

Ayame went very still. “From the day he was born.”

Nori stood up and brushed the grass off her dress. “I’ll take those pills. But I would speak with you again, Ayame-san.”

She bowed and left. She could avoid the questions now, but Nori knew, and she knew, that this was not over.



* * *





Akira came home early the next morning. Nori ran to greet him, still in her nightgown. Her leg smarted, but she could walk just fine. No sign of a limp.

She bowed and he patted her gently on top of the head.

“You need a haircut,” he remarked.

She smiled. “What did you bring me?”

He handed her a package wrapped with bright yellow paper. “Some normal clothes. A few dresses, some sweaters and skirts. You can’t walk around Tokyo dressed like a woman from last century.”

She gasped. “And did you get me very fashionable things from the store windows?”

He rolled his eyes at her. “I got you what I got you. But anyway, you can open it if you want.”

Nori was already starting to unwrap the package. At the very top, she could see a short-sleeved, collared dress the color of toffee.

Akira’s cheeks were pink. “Do you like it?”

She looked up at him. “Very much, Oniichan. Thank you.”

He looked satisfied. “Well, good. Go and change, then. We’re going out.”

She froze, sure that she had misheard him. A shiver went down her entire body, from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes.

“Out . . . where?”

Akira crossed his arms. He hadn’t even taken off his leather jacket. “Into town.”

She gaped at him. “But that’s one of the rules.”