Risuko: A Kunoichi Tale (Seasons of the Sword #1)(26)

“Mind,” he added, “I think yeh’re goin’ t’need to stay away from hot foods anyway. Yeh got too much heat in yeh. Anybody could see that.” He scratched his beard. “I think we’re goin’ to feed yeh up with some nice, cooling yin food.”

Toumi gawked at him as if he were speaking in gibberish—which, in fairness, he was. Then she gave a disgusted snort, and began shoveling rice into her mouth.

The rest of the meal passed, uneventful and delicious. Emi and I even tried a little bit of the kimchee, which was very tasty and not really too hot to eat, especially if you knew what you were about to put into your mouth. It took Toumi a little while to get over her shock and discomfort and to trust the rest of the food, but hunger won out, and soon all three of us were groaning with contentment.

Kee Sun poured some of the rice wine into little sake cups and mixed ours with water. Then he poured a large mug-full for himself—undiluted of course. “Don’t think I’m going to be able to feed you like this every night,” he said. “But you certainly earned it.” Then he lifted his mug. “Wihayeo,” he said in Korean. “Cheers!”

We toasted him in response, sipping at our sweet wine, and feeling the warmth of it, so different from the heat of the spicy kimchee, spreading through our stomachs.

Even Emi was smiling as we finished cleaning the kitchen.

The night was clear, cold and bright. Shivering, we stumbled back to our room. An almost full moon was directly overhead, surrounded by a glowing circle of light. In the mountains, you can see so many more stars, and they are so bright that you feel as though you could climb right up the stars of the River of Heaven like a ladder.

As we went into the building, Fuyudori was sitting cross-legged on her bed, brushing her white hair. “You have done very well, for the first day,” she said, with her sweet, mocking smile. “After you have gone and bathed, you should sleep. I will do my best to make sure that you are ready for helping Kee Sun serve breakfast.”

We all groaned.

Her smile broadened. “Do not worry. Once you have finished your morning kitchen duty, you get to take a music lesson in the Tea House with Sachi-san.”

“A music lesson?” asked Toumi.

“With Sachi-san?” I said. She was, I gathered, one of the older women. The kunoichi.

“Yes, Risuko-chan. With Sachi-sensei. Since she will be acting as your teacher, she should be addressed as such.”

“But I would have thought Mieko...”

Fuyudori got her playful smile, the one that always let me know I wasn’t going to get a straight answer. “Mieko-san has other subjects to teach. But none that you will need just at the moment. Nor would you would want a music lesson from Mieko-sensei, I think. Shino, Mai, and I will be joining you for the lesson. Won’t that be lovely?”

The three of us looked at each other. It was clear that the other girls felt as I did: a music lesson didn’t sound lovely at all—and the idea of having the three older girls join didn’t make it any more appealing.

Fuyudori nodded, as if we had agreed with her. “Now off to the bathhouse with you,” she ordered, and we shuffled silently next door. It was my favorite building at the Full Moon, so far—as big as our sleeping quarters, but bare inside except for the two large tubs. The smell of damp wood filled the air like steam.

The fires that heated the water had burned low, but the huge wooden tubs were still warm. We bathed in silence, fighting the urge to fall asleep in the tepid water. When we were clean, we trouped back to our dormitory.

Fuyudori was seated on her mat. “Be quiet as you go to bed,” she said. “The others are already asleep.”

“Not surprising given how much sake they were drinking...” muttered Emi, and then realized that Fuyudori was looking at her disapprovingly. “Fuyudori-senpai. Ma’am.”

We tiptoed in and slid, exhausted, into our beds. As always, Emi was snoring within seconds of lying down.

I lay there, staring at the ceiling, listening to a squirrel scurry across the roof. I wish I could be up there with you, I thought. And then I, too, fell asleep.





15—The Music Lesson


When Fuyudori cheerfully woke us the next morning, none of us—Emi, Toumi, Mai, Shino, or myself—was very happy about it. My legs were sore from the combination of riding all day and then staying on my feet all evening. And that wasn’t even counting scurrying through the juniper and gripping that branch with my knees while arrows hissed overhead.

One of the older girls, whined, “Why do we have to get up? They have kitchen duty.”

“You have duties outside the kitchen, just as I have had for the past three years,” Fuyudori said. She turned to me, Emi and Toumi. “Little ones, dress and get to the kitchen. You’ll have your music lesson later today.”

When we arrived back at the kitchen, Kee Sun was looking quite unhappy. His hair was sticking out like a dog’s that has been rolling in pinesap.

We got through breakfast—reheated rice and platters of scrambled egg.

Several of the women weren’t given egg—they were fed bean curd. One such, much to her annoyance, was Toumi.

“Told yeh! Too hot! Meat is the last thing a temper like yehr’s needs. No, none for a Falcon-girl!” Kee Sun laughed, and made sure that not a bit of animal flesh—not even egg or fish—passed through her lips. “Too yang,” he muttered, and plopped a serving of the bland, white bean curd into Toumi’s bowl. I could see that she thought about refusing, but like all of us, she knew what hunger truly felt like, and so, a glower of extreme distaste on her face, she ate the bean curd. All of it.