Fifty Words for Rain(74)

“Come in,” he said.

She went inside, closed the door, and waited. Akira looked her up and down in that infuriating way he always did. His nose wrinkled.

“Why do you always look like you’ve been living in the woods?”

She had no rebuttal. She was covered in dirt and leaves, with scuffs on her arms and bruises on her knees. Her blouse had a wine stain on the front. Her hair was a lost cause; she would need to have Alice see to it later.

“Gomen.”

“And you stink.”

She winced. “I’m sorry.”

Akira crossed his arms. “We need to talk.”

Nori felt the pit of her stomach fall out. Her knees began to buckle.

“About?”

He took a deep breath. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was gathering his courage.

“I have to go away.”

She sighed with relief so strong she could almost weep with it. “Oh, God. You scared me. Just that, then. Where are you going this time?”

Akira did not meet her gaze. “Vienna.”

“Austria?”

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

This was the core question. He never left her for more than two months, three at the most. He’d taken only four trips in the last two years. She had been dreading this moment, but she was prepared.

Akira still did not look at her. “Nine months. Maybe more.”

She folded like a paper doll. Only his quick reaction stopped her from falling to the floor.

“Nori—”

“No.”

“But it’s—”

“No.”

“Sit down,” he urged, gripping her elbow. “Sit down before you fall and crack your head open.”

The world was spinning. She felt the blood rush to her temples. “You can’t go.”

“Nori, just listen.”

She dropped to the floor, and her grip on his collar meant that he was pulled down with her and forced to look into her pale, horrified face.

“You can’t leave me alone with him,” she whispered, too low for him to hear.

“What?”

Why don’t you see me?

“You can’t fucking leave for nine months!”

He gasped. “Where did you learn that word?”

She pushed him with all her meager strength, and he fell back.

The strings that had held up for so long, as she was passed from one puppet master to another, had finally snapped.

“I lived in a whorehouse, Oniichan, I know how to swear,” she blazed. “I know many things, though you give me credit for nothing.”

He stared at her blankly. She had never seen him at a loss for words. But it did not last. His face darkened.

“You don’t know anything,” he hissed at her. “I have received an invitation from the foremost concert violinist in Europe. He wants to train me, Nori. He wants to take me as his pupil. This is the pinnacle of my ambitions, this is beyond them. I have to go.”

She clenched her fists. “What about me?”

Akira was incredulous. She had never raised her voice to him before. “Nori—”

“What about me, damn it?” she cried.

Her brother got to his feet and brushed himself off, as if that would remove the lint and everything else that was beneath him from his presence.

“What about you?” he said coldly. “You have servants to look after your every want. No one beats you here, no man will lay a hand on you. You are fed, you are clothed in the finest silks, you have a playmate in the form of that stupid girl. I have remained in this miserable country day in and day out for you. In a few years I’m going to marry some spoiled bitch just to keep our grandfather from skinning you alive and wearing your flesh as a shirt. I’m going to give up my music, my traveling, my dreams of touring Europe forever. I’m going to take up the reins of this cursed family of ours and try to make a world where bastard children are not murdered in their sleep. And now I want something for myself—nine months—and you rage like a child.”

Her eyes filled with angry tears. “That’s not fair.”

“It is exactly fair,” he corrected her. “You’re a child. And a fool. And I’m not your father, for God knows he could never be bothered with you.”

She felt a swift pang of agony. She found her feet and held out her hands, as if she could stop what must inevitably come next.

Akira’s eyes were harder than she’d ever seen them. There was no tenderness in them, none at all. His well of patience had finally run dry.

“And of course, we know that I’m not Mother,” he scoffed. “Seeing as you ran her off already.”

A hush fell over the room. Even the clocks stopped their ticking.

She went perfectly still. Akira’s eyes widened; his mouth opened like a fish gasping for air. He took a half step towards her.

Nori picked up the glass vase on the table beside her. She looked at it, looked at him. He blinked.

And then she threw the vase squarely at his head.

He dodged but barely. It shattered on the wall behind him.

She laughed.

“Have you lost your mind?” he whispered. He put a hand to his temple where the vase had grazed him.

Nori contemplated this for a moment. “Maybe,” she said, bending down to pick up one of the whiskey glasses that Akira kept stacked neatly on a shelf near the door. “As far as I’m concerned, I am long overdue.”