Fifty Words for Rain(60)

Tonight, she was determined to stay awake.

“No sleeping,” she mumbled, pinching the cold skin on her inner elbow. “No sleeping.”

It was nearly morning. The sun was just starting to peek over the clouds, casting a blush-colored hue across the tops of the trees. From her perch in the oak tree, Nori could see it perfectly. It was cold today, but she barely felt it. She rubbed the side of her face against the rough bark. It had been two days since she’d last slept. She felt herself losing control, of her body and her thoughts, but she didn’t see a choice. She’d resorted to drinking coffee, as bad as it tasted, but it didn’t help much.

She hoisted herself up an extra branch, swinging her body to make it easier to carry her weight. Her leg began to pulsate, and she winced, but deep down, she was grateful for the pain.

She had learned to carve out a place inside herself, somewhere between sleeping and waking. She could float there, for hours sometimes, in a white plane where nothing touched her.

It took her a few minutes to realize that Akira was calling her. She perked up immediately, poking her head out from between the leaves to smile at him.

“Oniichan. Good morning.”

He did not return her smile. His look was disapproving. He was still in his red silk pajamas and his hair looked like it was in desperate need of a wash.

“I checked your room and didn’t find you.”

“I wanted to be outside.”

He frowned at her. “It’s cold. You should be wearing a coat if you’re going to be outside. And since when do you climb so high?”

She felt her stomach drop. Now she was sure that she didn’t want to come down.

“I can manage.”

“Not with your leg. I want you to get down.”

She jutted out her bottom lip. “I’m fine.”

She saw the quick flash of irritation cross his face. “Nori.”

She climbed down without another word, landing on her feet with a hard thud. “Why were you looking for me, anyway?” she asked crossly. “You’ve been locked in your room for days.”

“I wanted to see if you’d like a violin lesson,” he snapped. “Ayame-san has told me you’ve been practicing every day. I thought it might be nice to spend some time together, as we did before in Kyoto.”

She was too tired to hide her petulance. “Nothing is the way it was before.”

Akira looked like he wanted to yell but thought better of it. He reached out to brush his palm against the side of her cheek. “Your face is all scratched up. You’re bleeding.”

She winced. “It doesn’t hurt.”

He lowered his eyes. “You’re always hurt,” he said softly. “I see it. And I can do nothing.”

Instantly, she felt that pull, the one she’d felt since she first laid eyes on him. She went to him and nuzzled her face into his chest.

“It’s not your fault. Nothing is your fault, Oniichan.”

He sighed as if he did not believe her. “I have to tell you that you can’t go to school. I know I promised. I’m sorry. I’ve made some inquiries, it’s just not safe.”

She accepted this latest disappointment with the ghost of a nod. “But I’ll have a tutor?”

Akira smirked. “Actually, I was planning on doing it myself in the evenings. If you’ll allow it.”

This was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, any time she got to spend with Akira was a blessing. On the other, he was notoriously impatient. She could clearly see a future of having books flung at her head.

She giggled. “And what will you teach me?”

She expected him to smile, but the look on his face was grave. “Practical matters. How to handle money, how to read a map. English, for that will certainly be the language of the world in a few years.”

Nori hesitated. “I thought we could do more poetry?”

“We can do that too. But it’s important that you learn these things. Don’t worry about it now. What would you like to do today?”

She felt a chill go down her spine. Akira was wearing a forced smile.

“Why are you being nice to me?”

He snorted. “Do I need a reason?”

“You’re always nice when something bad is about to happen,” she accused. “Itsumo. Every time. What are you going to tell me now? Is somebody dead?”

Akira rolled his eyes. “Name one person either of us knows whose death could be anything but good.”

“So what then?”

Days without sleep had made her vulnerable, and she could feel the tears threatening to fall. Her emotions were like a frayed cable about to short-circuit.

Akira shuffled his feet. “I have to go away for a little while.”

She dug her nails into her palms. “What? Why?”

“I’ve been invited to go play in Paris. At a competition.”

She bristled. “By who?”

“It doesn’t matter who.”

“So you don’t have to go away. You’re not being drafted into a war. You’re leaving of your own free will.”

Akira shrugged. “You’ll be fine. Ayame-san will look after you.”

“I don’t need her to look after me. You shouldn’t be leaving at all.”