Fifty Words for Rain(78)

Alice wiped her face with her sleeve. “I love you so, my sweet girl.”

Nori smiled and kissed both her cheeks. “And I you.”

Will and Akira’s parting was considerably more restrained. They shook hands and mumbled some things at each other. In all likelihood they would see each other again, perhaps sooner than Nori would have liked.

“I’ll see you around, then,” Akira said. He failed to hide the disappointment from his voice, and Nori shoved down her guilt for parting them.

Will nodded. “Finish that composition of yours. It’s going to be brilliant.”

“And yours. I think you should take out some of those fermatas. You know I hate them.”

Will smirked. Someone from the boat hollered at them to get on or get left behind.

His eyes fell on Nori.

“Goodbye, then,” he said stiffly.

She inclined her head. “Safe travels, Mr. Stafford.”

He winced. If he’d expected her to have a change of heart at the last moment, he was destined to be disappointed.

She turned to Alice. “Don’t let them break you,” she said simply.

Alice smiled that dazzling smile of hers. “Not this time.”

They boarded the boat. Akira draped his arm across Nori’s shoulder, and they watched it get farther and farther away until it winked off into the gray twilight.

“Are you going to miss them?” Nori asked shyly.

Akira sighed. “A little. But I always knew they’d have to go back to where they belong.”

She felt the guilt wash over her. “Well, you have Vienna to look forward to. You leave in just two weeks.”

He smiled and his eyes lit up. “I am excited,” he confessed. “And I’ve already told the servants to get everything in order for you. You won’t want for anything, I promise.”

She suppressed a giggle. She had been managing the house for years now. Akira didn’t even know where to find the salt shaker.

“Hai, Oniichan.”

“Do you want to go straight back? I have a few hours. We could go into town.”

“That sounds nice.”

He suddenly frowned. “I wish you wouldn’t go out without a coat. You’re going to get sick.”

She wiggled her nose at him. “You worry too much. I am practically indestructible, Oniichan.”

He took off his coat and draped it around her shoulders. “Wear it.”

“Oniichan! You’ll be cold.”

He shrugged. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

She folded her arm into the crook of his elbow and let him lead the way. They never really came to this part of the city; they rarely left the safe enclave of wealthy citizens. The festivals were held closer to where they lived, while still offering a neutral meeting place for everyone.

This part of the city was different. It was full of ordinary people.

As they wound their way through the crowds, Nori watched the messenger boys go by on their bikes and the children walking their dogs. They wound their way through the crowd of people. She let herself drift off into a comfortable waking dream, retaining only enough consciousness to keep her feet moving.

She could smell cooking meats and fish fresh from the ocean. She could hear mothers shouting after their children and men playing dice. There were a few white people too, mingling about with no one giving them a second glance.

Even Nori seemed to blend in seamlessly. Perhaps Japan was more than her grandmother’s Kyoto. Perhaps it was like a tapestry of many colors and she could find somewhere to fit after all.

Akira halted, and Nori snapped out of her trance.

She found herself staring at a short, balding man who was drenched in sweat even though it was cool outside. He was wearing an ugly tweed suit and glasses that were too big for his face. He was looking up at Akira in awe.

He bowed low and nearly dropped the stack of scrolls he was carrying.

“Akira-sama,” he stammered. “It’s such an honor. Such an honor.”

Akira frowned and started to move past him, but Nori pinched his hand. Akira didn’t like being fawned over, but it happened fairly often.

He shot her a swift look that said, Fine, I’ll humor him.

“Konnichiwa. I’m sorry, have we met?”

The man laughed. “Oh, you wouldn’t remember an old fool like me. You were just a child. Your honored mother brought you to my shop years and years ago. You used to like to play with the golden dragons I keep by the register. And she—God bless her—she had a fondness for my silk fans.”

Akira blinked. “Oh. You’re the antique-seller. Hiromoto-san, isn’t it?”

“Yes!” he burst. “Oh, why, yes, you do remember. What an honor. What an honor. It is so wonderful to see you again after all of these years. And so tall!”

Akira flushed. “Yes, well. Thank you.”

Hiromoto turned to Nori and bowed. “And what a pleasure to see you again, chibi hime.”

The memory came back to her in a flash. Though she had done her best to forget that night, it was etched onto her like a tattoo.

“Oh . . . the festival. I bumped into you.”

He laughed. “Indeed, indeed you did.”

Akira glanced at his watch. “Well, if you will excuse us, Hiromoto-san, we really do have to be going.”