Flame in the Mist (Flame in the Mist #1)(34)

New recruit? Rules?

Mariko struggled to stay emotionless as a flurry of thoughts whirled through her mind. Yoshi’s already flushed face reddened further. In that moment, Mariko knew she was right to keep silent.

Ren had just revealed something he was clearly not meant to divulge.

Yoshi took a deliberate step in Ren’s direction. A step laced with warning. “He did not say you could do as you pleased with me. And as long as Sanada Takeo is with me, I insist you leave him be.”

“Fine,” Ren said, anger flashing in his yellowed eyes. “Enjoy your meal, Lord Weakling, for it might be your last!” As he yelled his threat, he fought to untangle himself from the brambles at his feet. Then he spun away, his expression promising a fierce reprisal in the near future.

Predictable, at all turns.

Mariko stared at the ruined egg lying on the ground. She contemplated picking it up and finishing it, dirt and all.

Such a shame to waste something so delicious.

“If that was to be my last meal,” Mariko murmured, “how fitting is it that it fell from my lips before I could eat it?”

The previously rough timbre of Yoshi’s laughter was gentler now. “Despite what I thought at first glance, you do have a flair for the dramatic. As to this being your last meal, that will depend on what Ranmaru decides.” He transferred another egg from the boiling vat into the cool bath. “Though I must say, for someone on the brink of death, you do appear remarkably calm.”

Mariko gnawed at her lower lip, once more considering what kind of information Yoshi intended to wheedle from her with his surly brand of kindness.

What kind of information she could, in turn, wheedle from him.

“I am not calm,” she said finally. “It’s a constant effort to quell my fear.”

“Then why bother?”

“Because I do not wish to appear weak.”

Another smile tugged at his mouth as Yoshi unshelled a new egg for Mariko.

His kindness could be a tactic. A way to wear down her defenses. Extreme cruelty tempered by extreme consideration. Much like the egg.

It could all be a trick.

But the egg—that simple egg—was so wonderful. So perfect.

How could anyone who would take such care to prepare a simple egg truly be bad?

Mariko sighed to herself.

If Yoshi’s kindness was a lie or a trick, she would let herself fall prey. All in service to a greater goal.

Follow orders. Engender trust.

Strike when they least expect it.

She would learn who these men were. Whom they served.

And why they’d tried to kill her.

When the bushes behind Mariko rustled once more, Yoshi yanked another small dagger from his belt and took aim. A yelp and the scurry of fleeing feet followed.

While she chewed, Mariko marveled at the fluidity of his movements. His wooden limb did not hamper him. Nor did it grant him any advantage, in that heedless way of stories. It was not a gift, nor was it a blessing.

It simply was. Just as he simply was.

And Yoshi threw daggers as though he was born to it, like an eagle taking flight.

This realization prompted her to consider a new idea:

Perhaps true weakness is weakness of the spirit.

“How long did it take you to learn to throw a kunai like that?” Mariko asked with unconcealed admiration.

“Most of my life.”

Her eyes dropped to the intricate leather belt at his hip. To the array of polished blades, each of varying shape and size. “What is the purpose behind having so many different kinds of daggers?”

“Some kunai are better to throw short distances. Others are better for longer ones. The remaining ones? Well, that’s among the many secrets I possess.” He snorted.

Mariko thought of Ren and his pebbles. “I wish I possessed this skill.” Her lips quirked to one side. “Today of all days, a skill like this would have served me well.”

“You could learn. Given enough training, anyone could.”

“I’m not so sure.” Lines of doubt settled across her face. “Are you also going to inform me I need to be as swift as a fire so I may move mountains in the wind?”

Yoshi laughed loudly.

Mariko caught herself before she could smile. “And you shouldn’t dismiss your abilities. It insults both you and me at the same time.”

Another raise of his brows. She suspected people did not often speak to Yoshi in such a direct manner. “Is that so?”

“Yes. You insult yourself by dismissing skills that took you a lifetime to develop. At the same time you insult me by stating that I need only try—as though the only hindrance is my own lack of effort.” Mariko’s speech grew more rapid with each passing word. She took a deep breath before continuing. “To even attempt something, one must first believe in the possibility. And then be granted an opportunity.” As Mariko finished, she glanced meaningfully at the portly fellow.

Yoshi’s grin turned knowing. “Alas, Sanada Takeo, you will not be granted the opportunity to throw a dagger here. But your attempt to try is duly noted. And appreciated.”

“Not an attempt. Rather an unceasing challenge of life,” she mused. “To learn, even when knowledge itself may fail you.”

“Rather the unceasing challenge of youth,” Yoshi said drily as he lowered more eggs into the simmering pot. “Not to worry; I can promise that all great opportunities in life follow some form of struggle.”