So. This is the reason why my calculus grade is so low now.
Don't you just love plot bunnies that show up just before major tests?
Anyways, about the actual story: I drew a bit of inspiration from European society as they were coming out of the medieval period - rise of the middle class, industrialization, and all that. Everything else is completely made up. In other words, AU alert!
Disclaimer: I own everything but what I really want to own.
Ultimatum
The problem with wealth was that not everyone wanted it.
Izumi thought that she could have gone her entire life without knowing that sorry little fact. In fact, nowadays she wondered if she would have been happier that way. Admittedly, she couldn't possibly give an unbiased opinion when her innards were squeezed into a tight corset and her feet were fastened into elegant heels. Normally, having money wasn't nearly this annoying.
Or painful. She took a cautious step forward and sighed when her heel protested the movement. Straightening her back seemed to help with the pressure, but then the lace on the edge of her fan would tickle the skin of her chin.
The good thing was that aristocratic walks were apparently very slow, so she wasn't too far behind the rest of the group – which included her mother. That alone kept her walking, because if the older woman realized that she was slowly leaving the rest of the group behind, there would be no end to the lectures later.
With an exception of the painful walking arrangements, Izumi actually didn't mind her little vacation all that much.
The countryside was beautiful, far from the pale grays of iron and silver and steel that saturated their hometown. There was an actual river to the north of the settlement, filled with sparkling, clear water. Except for the paved road that circled around the estate and followed the waterway for miles, there was no sign of civilization anywhere. It was actually quite relaxing.
She would have loved it here if her family had simply ceased to exist.
The thought made her purse her lips, frowning.
Izumi would never tell a soul, but the whole idea of buying a noble title from the king irked her somewhat, even if her parents were completely enamored with the idea. She tossed her head slightly, and winced when the tight corkscrew curls hanging over her ears got caught in one dangling earring. She stopped walking to fix it.
She stared, hazily, at the river as her fingers worked at untangling the mass of blonde hair. And then her jaw dropped.
A hundred crudely made little boats suddenly flooded the entire waterway. It was an enormous crowd of color from every angle, and up ahead the rest of the party started to shout – sophisticatedly, of course.
There were so many different kinds: with sails and without, flat and thick, wooden and straw and even one that was thatched with dandelions. And of course, they were painted every color imaginable.
Izumi barely noticed anything else until a hard hand landed on her arm and she turned to face the pinched face of her mother.
Frozen, she forced herself to hide the sudden onslaught of anxiety with a calm, clear, "Yes, mother?"
The pinched look tightened, before hiding under an understanding exterior. "Walk with us, Izumi. It's such a lovely day out, we shouldn't waste the good company."
Izumi gritted her teeth, wanting to tell her just how good the company was, but held back her tongue. There was no sense in getting into a fight this early in the trip. She was supposed to be relaxing, after all.
Closing her eyes, she snuck a look back at the river under long lashes that were coated with mascara. Then, she bit her lip with disappointment. Most of the colorful boats had moved on with the current, leaving just a few stragglers and half-sunk models. Now that the little spectacle was mostly over, she had time to wonder just what was going on. It was doubtful that the nobles in the group would know about it; from what she had seen they would be too prissy to even think about little things like that.
Maybe the merchants would know something.
But her father was a merchant - or had been, anyway - and he tried his hardest not to know anything about culture, except when it would benefit him.
Besides, how many of the people here were actually locals?
Disheartened, Izumi turned her face back to the other members of the party and followed.
The walk was almost over, anyway, and then she would be free.
As it turned out, "almost over" meant nearly an hour of standing there demurely, waiting for her parents to finish their farewells. They both shot her annoyed glances as she carefully ignored the scene, and Izumi guessed that she would probably get a long talk with them afterward.
She didn't really care anymore. Her mind was still fixed on the mystery of the boats.
So when they were released and allowed to go to their rooms at the townhouse, she made sure to excuse herself as soon as possible, hoping that the shopping trip later would provide enough of a time diversion to keep them from interfering. An excursion back into the woods, alone, sounded very good right now.
The corset was instantly dumped, as were the overly fancy shoes. She twirled around in her underdress for a while, celebrating her freedom. As she did, Izumi started moving closer to the wardrobe on the other side of her room. She cleared all of the fancy dresses to the side to reveal another row of clothes right behind them, hidden from view.
Her mother would have her head if she knew. But Izumi was an experienced smuggler, especially when her comfort was at stake. What she was putting on now had absolutely no frills. The only decorations were the embroidered Celtic knots running along the hem of her short sleeves and skirt. She had purposefully chosen her most neutral colors – a pale beige with deep mahogany accents – to avoid attention.
The cool salty air hit her face and Izumi grinned. She had to resist the urge to spin around like a little girl now that she was wearing comfortable boots and wouldn't make a spectacular show of tripping.
She started to walk briskly back to the site where she first saw the colorful boats, and found a large rocky outcropping on one side of the river where another small stream was pouring its water into the larger river. But what caught her attention was not the landscape, but a few stranded boats that were floating languorously in the small pool of still water right behind the waterfall.
A burst of excitation had her jumping right over half of the river onto the rocky island in the middle, and from there she neatly stepped into the water, picking up two small boats.
More awkwardly, she tried to find her way back to the other side of the river. It took much longer this time, since she couldn't use her hands to balance.
After the last jump, Izumi walked to a tree root and sat there.
She turned the boats around in her hands. They were very simple little models, one made of wood and the other straw. The second one was half destroyed, so she set it down on the ground and focused on the other.
The sides were sanded down to a smooth surface. Izumi wondered why someone would spend so much time to do that when so many of the tiny ships just ended up underwater or stranded in the sharper curves of the river.
She carefully dismantled the boat, picking up the sail with nimble fingers. For a while, she just stared at it, wondering and thinking, until she suddenly straightened and let out a triumphant cry.
It was a lampshade. It had to be. The pattern, the curve, the material, it all fit. Now she was left completely puzzled as to why people would cut up a lampshade for a sail… obviously, she needed to actually talk to someone who was familiar with the area and ask what on earth the boats were for.
Maybe there was a meaning behind the materials. Maybe it didn't matter. But now that Izumi had something to do with her time, she was perfectly happy to stay here.
Strange that something so small would change things so much.
Now that she had gotten her little souvenir, Izumi looked up from her hands and straight into the blade of a sword.
She froze.
For a long beat, trembling, Izumi moved her eyes from the tip of the weapon two inches away to the pale hand that held it, to the tall man attached.
Thick black hair ran down his back in a ponytail; the rest was left loose around his face. Vaguely, she thought that she recognized him, or something about him, but panic closed off all thoughts before they made much headway.
The man, apparently satisfied by her silence, made the next move. "Who are you?"
Her mouth moved open and closed, before she whispered, "Izumi Orimoto." After another silence, she cursed silently. It wasn't a good idea to tell a stranger her real name, especially a stranger with a sword and the apparent willingness to use it.
Previously, there had been no expression on his face, but now a slow sneer crept onto his lips and made a shiver go down her spine. "Never heard of your family. What are you doing here?"
"Not anything that merits a sword in my face, thank you," she said back, eyes flashing. The stranger stared at her openly before the surprise on his face dissolved into anger.
"I'll decide that. What are you doing here?"
She lifted up the boat.
He scowled. "The boat races ended an hour ago."
"Oh," Izumi said, realizing brightly that this was her chance. She almost forgot that her life was being threatened. "What were they doing?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why were there boats there?"
He stared at her, blankly and suspiciously. "You don't know?"
"No." His gaze was making her nervous, even more so than the sharp metal edge that inched closer and closer.
"You don't belong here," he said, matter-of-factly, and she bristled.
"I think I do," she declared, more for the sake of standing her ground than anything else.
"You don't," he hissed. His tone was venomous, pitched low with the promise of danger.
"I live in the Madame Lori's townhouse."
"But you don't belong here."
Truer words were probably never spoken. For the longest time, Izumi had been regretting her decision to visit her parents, especially since they were more interested in flaunting their money than in their own daughter. She was many things, but pretentious wasn't one of them.
"Can you please put your sword down?" she asked finally, more than a little bewildered by the whole conversation. "I haven't done anything wrong!"
"You're a trespasser on land that does not belong to you. Stand up."
She did, but her fear had vanished into the protective coil of her anger. "Your sword, sir."
"Is right where it should be, ma'am."
"I've already been here earlier. The estate owners approved the visit."
The man actually stopped this time, and looked back at her with contemplative blue eyes. She chewed her lip, feeling suddenly self-conscious and plain in front of him. "Oh?"
How was it possible to pack that much contempt into one word?
"Yes." Izumi made an effort to mimic his tone, but it came off as petulant rather than dignified, making her wish that she had never seen those stupid little boats and come here and found the boat and met this insufferable bastard.
Apparently, the only thing that was good about the man was his looks. Disinterest in marriage did not mean that Izumi was blind. It was just that she was more worried about the sword than she was about his face – which was decidedly very nice to look at. It was his mouth that was the problem, she reflected. And perhaps the sword too – oh.
For some reason, he had sheathed the weapon just like Izumi had asked. Maybe she had convinced him of her harmlessness?
A wave of laughter bubbled up in her throat. How on earth could a single young lady with a boat in her hands ever look threatening to anyone? Now that Izumi wasn't looking at a sharp metal blade anymore, it was easy to laugh at the absurdity. The boat was suddenly taken from her hand, and she yelped. The stranger tilted the little wooden object and quietly said, "It's a good one. Where did you get it?"
She blinked at the sudden subject change. "It…I found it around there." She made an absent gesture toward the waterfall.
"Hm." The black-haired man backed away and stared at her with bored eyes. Izumi lifted her chin and looked at him, and he made a faint dismissive sound before turning around to leave.
"Ah, wait!" She waved the wooden boat around. "Why was there a boat race?"
"Why?" he repeated, looking somewhat puzzled himself. "Because it's part of Magnolia's Festival."
She decided not to ask what that was, because she had a feeling that he would only sneer at her ignorance. Instead, she asked what should have been the first question: "What's your name?"
He looked at her with a frown on his face. "You don't know?"
"No." Izumi suddenly felt approximately two inches tall under his penetrating gaze, which had grown much more meaningful in the past five seconds. "Um. Unless you tell me."
Her eyes were trained on that smirking face. "Well."
"Yes."
"I didn't ask a question, you know."
"Er, right. I know."
"Then what are you agreeing to?"
Izumi floundered for a moment, wondering if her inexperience with talking to random strangers was that obvious. "Er, the situation."
"I see. I suppose that I can keep your 'yes' unless I need it then."
She blinked at him, confused.
"I mean – oh, never mind." He slipped into neutral courtesy so quickly that it was like he had never been out of it. "I apologize for the inconvenience."
"It's not a problem," she smiled daringly. "As long as you tell me why you pointed your sword at me."
"Poachers."
"Oh," she mumbled. "I guess that makes sense."
"Yes," he replied coolly. "I will walk you to the end of the forest."
"Am I allowed to come visit?" Izumi chewed her lip softly. "I really like it here."
Of course she did. Nothing in her room could possibly hold her attention for more than a minute at a time, and she had all the time in the world for shopping or entertaining friends – if she found any.
The young man walking just ahead of her didn't even look at her as he replied, "I will ask the Lord and Lady."
"Alright." Izumi suddenly realized that she had not been following the code of behavior her mother set out for her, at all. And she had even given him her real name! Izumi pursed her lips and sighed. While she didn't exactly care whether or not she followed the rules, her mother and father would. Even if it didn't make a difference, she might as well give him the proper farewell address. "Your acquaintance is my pleasure, may Fortune receive you into favor."
He was staring at her, and for a moment she wondered if she had done something wrong, or if he didn't know the greetings. But finally, he replied, "The pleasure is all mine, you gift me with your presence."
Then he bowed, an elegant sweeping move that put the awkwardness of her mother and father to shame. She answered with a curtsey, which felt strange in her comfort clothing.
When he vanished into the dark woods, she turned back to the townhouse with a growing feeling of trepidation. After all, it was much later in the day than she had expected to be gone, and her family wouldn't be away forever.
She needn't have worried.
When she entered the dark salon, the Madame's good-natured smile and easy welcome let her know that nothing had happened…yet. The older woman was as open as a book, and did her best to keep all of her tenants happy. So if her parents had shown even the slightest hint of being unhappy, she wouldn't be so cheerful. And if her parents weren't displeased, that meant that they just weren't there.
Izumi smiled back at her. "Good afternoon, Madame."
"Good 'fternoon, dear. And where have you been, hm?"
She flushed instantly, another thing she hated to do. "Looking at the boats."
The baby blue eyes crinkled as the older woman laughed. "Oh, I see. Would you like your roll now or later, dear?"
"Roll?"
Madame Lori was busying herself with the rather crude oven. "Yes, of course. All of the boat-watchers have to take their bread."
"Boat-watchers?"
"Oh!" The woman suddenly whipped around, her hand on her mouth. "I forgot. This is your first time seeing them, isn't it?"
"I saw the boats this morning. Someone said something about Magnolia's Festival?" As soon as the words left her mouth, she cursed her inability to lie. If her parents found out that she had been alone in the forest with a young man without a chaperone…
Thankfully, the portly landlady didn't recognize the slip for what it was. "Yes. It's a harvest celebration, and on this day all of the young folk send out their little boats. And it's said that whoever wins is going to get married next year." The woman sent a wink her way, and Izumi flushed again. "The people who watch the boats are called the boat-watchers. Were you there?"
"Sort of. We were walking along the river."
A surprised gleam flitted across her face. "On the estate?"
"Yes."
"Ah, then you should have seen the winner! It was a little red boat, belonging to a young lady in the village. Her father's terribly pleased. So is the girl – there's a young man that she fancies, although no one knows how he feels about it. His parents, though, they're not happy with the match, but she won, so they'll have to consider it." The woman's face was fixed into an expression of absolute seriousness as she told the story. Izumi was amused to see that the villagers really believed in the superstition.
"Who are they?"
"The girl? Or the boy?"
"Both, I guess."
"Ah, ah, ah." Madame shook her finger at Izumi, teasingly. "You'll be able to figure it out on your own, I think."
"Oh. I suppose."
The woman smiled before disappearing under the table for a soft dinner roll. "Here's your supper, boat-watcher."
"Thank you," Izumi replied, more for the information than for the food. She took it and went upstairs to think.
A few minutes later, she was fast asleep.
Breakfast the next morning was an exhausting affair. Her mother was chattering animatedly, probably to make up for the cool restraint she would have to exercise later with their good company. Izumi listened half-heartedly, most of her attention focused on the buttered toast. And the warm milk. Mmm.
Madame Lori was a very good baker.
It was just that yesterday's roll had tasted…strange. Extremely sweet. And it had been terribly colorful, too, on the inside. She wondered why that was. Hopefully, when her parents were gone (taking their rules of behavior with them) she would be able to ask.
It didn't go exactly as planned, because her mother decided to tell her, "Oh, we'll be going to a party later today, dear, so pick out a dress," before sauntering off to her rooms.
Leaving Izumi standing there with a slack jaw and surprise glowing on her face. Was her mother always this demanding? Either way, Izumi's attendance had been practically assured if she didn't want to start a public argument, so she would have to learn how to put up with it for the rest of the visit.
What a lovely relationship she had with her parents.
Well, it was fine. There was a reason that she left home when she did.
But now, now there was a dress and courage to find. And her immense wardrobe was absolutely no help. There were rows and rows of colored petticoats, so vivid and energetic, but none of which were as bright as yesterday's boats. At which point she stopped thinking and wondered at herself. When did she start comparing everything to that? Just a few days ago, she had been able to watch the foreign little town go about its business without digging too deep. Now she was getting attached.
Izumi didn't know what to make of that. She tried rationalizing it, to some extent, but she had never been good at lying to herself. Izumi actually spent most of an hour thinking on it. Luckily, her fingers were adept at multi-tasking and she still made considerable headway through the piles of lace and ribbon.
She didn't have to try on any of the dresses; they all felt the same, tight and suffocating and irritating. So it was basically a test of color – which ones flattered her, which ones didn't.
And she would try her best to pick the happy medium, one that wouldn't draw too much attention from suitors or parents. Izumi slaved over the choice for a long time, mixed up between the pale purple and the midnight blue. Personal preference picked the former, but a silly whim – because she refused to accept it as anything else – chose the latter.
Eventually, she decided to leave it up to chance, although it was difficult trying to find a copper piece in her allowance. Why did every other kind of coin have to be double-sided? After a full ten minutes of futile searching, she groaned and collapsed on the bed, right on top of the blue dress.
She blinked. Well, that was good enough. Flicking her hand through the thick wave of hair, which had thankfully straightened out again after last night, she started the arduous process of putting the tight dress on. But instead of wondering why she was even agreeing to this – ignoring, of course, the fact that she didn't have a choice in the matter – she simply rung for Madame.
Who came up, scurrying and eager to please.
"That's a lovely dress, dear!"
Flushing slightly, even though the compliment hadn't really been for her, she motioned for the woman to help her with the corset. Expert hands tightened the laces without much fuss, and she sighed. "Thank you."
"Not a problem, dearest. Blue suits you."
"It does," she murmured as nonchalantly as she could.
But the woman turned her around, smiling slyly. "Someone on your mind?"
That made her frown a little. "Sort of. More like a distant admirer thing, though."
"Oh?" The eagerness on her plump face made Izumi giggle slightly.
"No, it's nothing."
"Well, now, dear, you never know." Madame sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to her.
Izumi sat down obligingly, wondering how she should explain it. Attraction was always a messy science, especially this early on. Anything could happen. Anything at all. She was addicted to the insecurity; propriety be damned. Of course, anything that happened would have to happen well outside of her parents' field of vision, but it really wouldn't be that hard to hide things from them. She had been doing it for years.
Izumi thought she would see that young man again, maybe. And then they would go on to become minor acquaintances, but that would be the end of it. It was easier to imagine the could-have-beens that way.
But she doubted that anyone else would understand. Sometimes even she didn't.
And besides, what were the chances that anything would happen? Threats and arguments did not a good relationship make.
"Start from the beginning, dear," Madame said helpfully, eyes bright.
Strangely enough, Izumi didn't want to disappoint her, even though she didn't think that anything would happen. "I don't know. I met someone yesterday."
"Oh, I see. A nice boy?"
"Not really. Except I don't know what people are like around here, so I can't compare."
"Ah…" Madame's eyebrows rose. "What did he say?"
"He pointed a sword at me."
"Oh, dear." Stretching out slightly, the woman shot Izumi a slight frown. "He threatened you?"
"Well, he said something about trespassing."
Madame suddenly froze, whipped around, and stared. "Is…is that so?"
Izumi chewed on her cheek slightly, trying to bring up details. "Yes. Also something about poachers."
"Darling, were you on the estate?"
"The estate? Which one?"
Madame shot her an amused look. "I believe your parents took you there a while ago for an afternoon walk?"
"Oh. Yes. Is the place famous?"
"Around here it is. Most of the land that the town's built on is theirs, you know."
"Who owns it?" At some point yesterday Izumi had heard the names, but in the wake of her very interesting afternoon, she had completely forgotten them. Now that Izumi thought about it, even the little things that had made perfect sense yesterday were all out of order. It was unlike her to accept half-truths and omissions from strangers. She felt rather foolish.
"It's called the Kimura estate, but the heiress married and took on her husband's name. They haven't changed it much. Not even the name."
"Oh?"
"And the Minamoto family runs it now, although they usually spend their time on the other side of the mountains."
"I see."
"What was your young man's name?" Madame Lori's eyes were twinkling.
"I don't know," she faltered slightly. "I think that he was trying to aggravate me."
"Ah!" Now the woman was trying to hide a smile, but Izumi saw it before it vanished under her frizzy bangs.
"What?"
"No, it's nothing. So, blue."
Izumi flushed when she recognized the look on the landlady's face. "Do you know…?" she trailed off.
"Well," Madame bustled cheerfully about, "I have an idea. Only an idea, mind."
"Better than what I have," she muttered. She felt the bed dip slightly behind her and leaned back obediently so that the older woman could fix her hair.
"You have such pretty hair, my dear. It's a pity that you can't let it down."
"Hmm. I suppose. Mother insisted."
"Of course, of course."
"By the way, that roll that I ate yesterday…"
"Oh, was it good? It took some time getting everything ready, and I didn't get to try it for myself, and–"
"No, no, it was good," Izumi assured her. "What did you put in it?"
"Ah, that. Well, it's a kind of candy that we eat this time of year… remind me to take you to the children's boat races tomorrow. They put a lot of them in their little boats, as many as possible, and then they let them go down the current. Then little ones have to catch the boats so that they can get their prize."
"It was very sweet. What's it made of?"
"Chocolate, mostly," Madame nodded, "to help the children grow up well."
"Oh, I see." Actually, she didn't, but she figured that it was another incomprehensible part of the local culture and that satisfied her curiosity for now.
Something horrifying occurred to her. "You aren't going to tell my parents, are you?"
"About what?" Madame's voice was mischievous but understanding.
Izumi felt a flood of gratitude for the woman. "Thank you."
"Not a problem, dear. I'm happy to help."
Three days later, Izumi was beginning to wonder what her mother wanted from her. Being dragged from party to party for hours at a time was taking a huge toll on her patience.
And how pathetic was it that she had spoken more words to her landlady than she did to her parents about her life?
Izumi hung her silver fan loosely over her knuckles, swinging it around. Her mother's definition of party was obviously not the same as Izumi's, which only served to aggravate her annoyance. And once she realized how irritated she was getting, Izumi would concentrate all of her energy to pushing the emotion down. If nothing else, her parents had succeeded in teaching her to avoid making a scene in public.
Her normally perfect control was off, though. Blood pounded in her ears as a wave of restlessness poured through every nerve ending in her body.
She hadn't even been there for an hour, and she was already bored out of her mind. Fleetingly she thought about the lovely woods just outside of the brightly lit parlor, but every time she felt like sneaking out some person would start to make conversation with her. Then, rules of propriety would demand that she talk back.
She couldn't even remember what the subjects of conversation were, but it was probably something mundane and insignificant.
The monotony was driving her mad. Sewing and embroidery were not her favorite things to do. If she had been there with her friends, maybe. The thought of Ruki blundering her way through the stitches made her smile. She entertained herself this way for another hour before her imagination ran out of ideas.
Then she was bored again.
Izumi honestly didn't know what she did to pass the time after that. She might have dozed off in the comfortable afternoon heat, held upright by the stiff corset.
She was, however, perfectly conscious when the maid came in with tea and sandwiches.
It was an escape route.
Carefully, so that she wouldn't give the game away, she took a spoonful of the fluffy whipped cream that was set aside in a silver container and laid it on one of the squares of food. Izumi was careful not to take too much and to cover most of what she was doing with her hand. No sense letting the noble ladies get suspicious. That would be the end of her plan, and then she would never be able to escape.
She lifted the chunk to her mouth and swallowed the cream first. After that, it took a bit of work, but when she breathed just right – she started to cough.
The choking sound came out more vigorously than Izumi expected, so she tried her best to stifle it. The other ladies began looking at her as soon as she did, and when her breathing finally relaxed, they began to gush out overly polite questions.
"Oh, dear, are you alright?"
"Did you catch something?"
"Oh, I knew that having commoners in the kitchen would come to no good–"
"Do you feel ill?"
Izumi was stunned. That was the only word for it – because she never expected such a simple parlor trick to work so well. But apparently they weren't used to having their presence snubbed. Izumi hadn't even realized how their vanity would work in her favor.
"I'm fine," she managed, rubbing her forehead a little. "It's probably just a little cold."
The other women – including her mother, who was probably doing it for the sake of looking like everyone else – tittered disapprovingly. One particularly bold woman with a peacock feather in her hat put her hand on Izumi's arm, and it took all the self-control she had not to jump back in surprise.
Apparently, even nobles didn't follow her mother's code of behavior.
Izumi pushed the thought to the back of her head and offered a faint little smile. "I think I'll go get some fresh air."
More agreeing sounds. She was absolutely delighted; things were going even better than she had imagined. Standing up, Izumi excused herself as politely and properly as she could and took up a dignified walk outside. At the door, a butler scurried by and looked at her oddly. She couldn't the resist the urge to do something silly when her entire body was sagging with relief, so Izumi stuck her tongue out just a little. The man made a strangled sound and she dashed outside into the sunshine.
As soon as the mansion vanished behind her, Izumi started removing the uncomfortable heels. Walking over roughly paved roads with most of her foot balanced on a thin little pole would land her in the infirmary, and then she would have to spend the rest of the visit in bed. For obvious reasons, Izumi wanted to avoid that. Underneath the actual dress, she wore white breeches that were tied with long strings. These were unknotted and used to tie her shoes and stockings together.
Hopefully she would find some way to clean off her feet later, but for now she really didn't care.
She was back. Izumi took an instinctive deep breath, letting the earthy smell wash over her. Wool and linen didn't, and couldn't, possibly compare to this.
A leaf crunched behind her.
Then cool steel pressed against her neck, while she just straightened and smiled distantly and deliberately. "Good afternoon."
When she suddenly found herself in mid-air, though, she yelped in surprise and squirmed under the solid grip. His left arm was looped around her waist and she could practically feel the amusement in his gaze. "Trespassing is a crime, you know that?"
She scoffed. "I was invited."
"You were invited to the parlor."
That confirmed some of Izumi's suspicions about her visitor. He had to be a blueblood. Izumi wasn't as surprised as she could have been. "And were you invited?"
"No."
"Did you need to be?"
The solid presence behind her suddenly vanished and she found herself jolting when he flicked a stray hair from her forehead. "Of course not. You know that."
"You could have just told me." Izumi wasn't about to admit that she had only been half sure about his identity. After all, she hadn't been trying very hard to figure the mystery out. Now that she knew, it was real, and she didn't like that. Izumi frowned to herself. What self-respecting nobleman would spend his time hunting down poachers?
"I figured it was better this way." He sounded almost resigned. "Reputations are awful things."
"They are," she agreed wholeheartedly. It was the only thing that tied her to her family now, sad as it was.
"You would know," the man returned calmly.
"I do. My mother and father are fairly famous hereabouts, aren't they?"
"Infamous is more like it."
"But you didn't recognize my family name."
Dark blue eyes were watching her every move. Izumi stood her ground and he seemed to approve. "I don't listen to gossip."
"No, you listen to trespassers."
"I should point out that you just admitted to trespassing."
"But I'm not a poacher, so it doesn't matter to you, does it?"
"In theory, it should."
"But?"
"But you're not as bothersome as your parents."
The calm, brutal honesty impressed her more than anything else. Sometimes she wished that she could say that to her father and mother, just to see the look on their faces… "Do you usually threaten every person that you find alone in the forest?"
He laughed, and looked just as surprised as she did. "I suppose so. But the deer are fawning, so it's a bad time to hunt them down. Better safe than sorry."
"Are there many of them?"
"Of?"
"The poachers."
"Yes," he returned evenly. "Even when the Lord and Lady actually stay here."
"Oh." She shifted her weight uncomfortably. The rocks were beginning to hurt her feet. "Why don't you let a servant do it?"
He scoffed derisively.
"Well?"
"Well, what?"
"Why don't you? Let someone else do the job, I mean."
"If you want something done, you have to do it yourself."
She blinked and twirled around to look at him. "I've heard that before. From Madame Lori."
"Everyone says it around here." He shrugged.
It was a poor attempt at evasion, but Izumi decided to let it go for now. "Right. You know, you never really introduced yourself."
"I thought you knew my name now?"
"Not your first name."
"Considering that we met three days ago…"
She scowled at him, ever so slightly. "I wasn't really interested in finding out, I'll have you know."
"Oh? Then why are you asking?"
Izumi pressed her lips into a thin line and turned her face away haughtily.
His lips twitched, ever so slightly. "You'll find out. When I talk to your father."
"Why would you talk to him?"
"Why wouldn't I?" It was a challenge, but not a serious one. Not like the one before, when he put his sword right against her neck. For some reason, she felt well and completely relaxed.
"But you don't go to the parties, do you?"
"No reason to go," came his serene reply. "I don't need the matchmaking, you know."
She stared at him and chewed her lip a little bit.
He kissed her.
One second. Two.
When he pulled away Izumi was staring at him with wide eyes. He looked rather triumphant. "You shouldn't chew your lip."
"Oh." Izumi counted herself lucky that she could say anything at all.
"And you taste like Suzuki's cream pies," he commented conversationally as she flushed. No one should be able to discuss things like that so calmly. No one.
"I've never had one."
"You can try it in the summer. They're quite good." The coolness in his voice belied the suggestive comment. After all, if he had really taken the time to figure out who she was, he would know that she wasn't planning on staying in town for that long. Or coming back anytime soon.
For some reason, she didn't mind the presumption. "I suppose I could," she said, emphasizing the last word.
"Yes," he replied neutrally. His eyes were dark and she wanted him to kiss her again.
Instead, he walked her back to the house, but she didn't miss the way the servants at the door stared at them. The looks of shock on their faces almost made up for it.
After nearly an hour of continuous shouting, Izumi wondered for the umpteenth time why she had ever thought that the visit would be a good idea. At this point, her mother would be less angry if she just left town entirely. Her father had not been quite as upset, mostly because it would be a 'good match,' but Izumi was even angrier with him than with her mother. What on earth was she, a mare?
"And on top of all that, you went to see a young man alone! Alone, Izumi! How many times have I told you about how improper that is? If you wanted to see him you should have asked me, I would have made the proper enquiries and gotten it for you! But no, you had to be such an embarrassment!"
Izumi sipped her tea, wincing as the pitch of the screams only got higher.
"We'll be lucky if the Lady decides to invite us over again! You should have known better! Even if you hadn't been feeling well, you should have stayed there like a proper girl! What on earth were you thinking? I'm so ashamed of you right now, Izumi!"
"May I be excused, mother?" she asked tightly when her mother stopped to breathe.
That earned her the beginnings of another lecture, which made Izumi sigh and stand up to leave. She would have to pack. Obviously, staying here any longer would just kill what was left of their little family. They might be the most irritating pair of people that she knew, but they were still her parents. And she was technically still a minor, and would be until her twenty-fifth birthday. It was lucky that she wasn't planning on giving them any power over her life – matrimonial or otherwise.
That would have just caused more problems. And people wondered why she didn't want to get married?
Well, she supposed that it was just about time to tie things up anyway. A finishing touch, so to speak.
Izumi carefully rearranged all of her clothes into a neat pile. The bag that she had taken everything in was already waiting at the bottom of the closet, and slowly but surely she tucked away all of her favorite dresses. She pointedly ignored the ones that her mother had gotten, except when she hesitated ever so slightly over the blue dress. He hadn't seen her wear it, she realized. Izumi hadn't planned to look at it again, either.
She leaned against the cold stone wall, fiddling with the lacy trim. Since she was going to leave as soon as she could, which was probably tomorrow, did she dare go back to the woods and see him? Or was it better to let things go this way?
Not that it would matter in the long run.
She let the thought rest there for a minute and grimaced at the sour taste in her mouth. Just a little huffily, she wondered why she was even worried about it. Two or three minutes with the man couldn't change much, whether she had them or didn't.
The faint shouts had long since faded into silence, and she threw the dress into the bag without a second thought.
When Izumi picked it up, she grunted quietly at the weight, but successfully carried it all the way downstairs without dropping it. There was only one room between the stairs and the back door: the kitchen. And neither of her parents would ever go there. Only Madame, possibly…
Who didn't need to start cooking dinner for another hour or so.
Who apparently decided to do it anyway.
Izumi had never been more upset to see the kind old woman leaning over the oven with a look of intense concentration on her face. She had also never been more surprised to see who was sitting at the table, looking straight at her.
He greeted her first. "Good evening."
"You," she managed between gritted teeth. True, she should have expected him to do something unpredictable, but this went far beyond mere unpredictable. Izumi thought that her heart would collapse from how hard it was pounding in her ribcage. "What are you doing here?"
The man had the nerve to smirk at her. "I thought it was obvious. I said I would talk to your father, didn't I?"
Jaw dropping, Izumi whipped around to see Madame Lori very deliberately looking away, humming a little ditty to herself. "How did you find me?"
"Everyone knows your parents."
"Oh." She felt a sudden spark of embarrassment for them. They hadn't done anything wrong, exactly… but why was she defending them?
Her visitor clucked his tongue with a smirk. "Don't think too hard, Izumi."
She glared at him. Use of the first name was strictly reserved for close friends, family, and... spouses. Horrified at the direction her thoughts were taking – without her permission too! – Izumi turned away and started to pull her belongings toward the door. What did it matter to her if one rude young man called her that? At least it wasn't some horrible nickname.
He came up behind her suddenly and took the bag from her hands. Suddenly unburdened, she turned to look at him in the eyes again. "I did not give you permission," she reminded him critically.
"You owe me a 'yes,' remember?"
"What?"
"Our first meeting. You said yes before I asked you any questions."
"That's completely out of context!"
"Well," he shrugged. "I could have used the favor on a proposal. If it makes you feel any better."
"Jerk!" she hissed, kicking him in the shin. He cursed slightly and wobbled backward, catching his balance by relying on the weight of her bag. Someone was giggling, and Izumi realized that it was Madame. She glared at the older woman, feeling strangely betrayed.
"You've got a good kick," his breath was warm on her neck – when did he get so close – what was he doing – oh.
He kissed her again. It wasn't quite as chaste this time, because she bit his lower lip and poked her tongue against his teeth and he took it as an invitation to ravage her mouth. Thoroughly. A little warning bell in her head reminded her that she had to get going now if she wanted to leave town today, and she broke away to tell him.
A little furrow appeared in his forehead, and he frowned at her. "You're leaving?"
"Yes," she murmured, not liking the calculating look in his eyes. This was not how she wanted to leave things. He wasn't supposed to kiss her again. Then again, 'supposed to' probably didn't appear anywhere in his vocabulary. "You were right."
"I was?"
"I don't belong here."
The breath rushed out of him so fast that she could hear the harsh rasping sound the air made against the roof of his mouth. "No," he acknowledged quietly. "Not while your parents are around."
She agreed, but the way he made it sound… "I'm still an Orimoto," she reminded him. "Don't insult my family."
"They deserve worse."
Izumi opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came out. Finally, she sighed, "Look. What's done is done. I can't just abandon them."
"So why are you leaving?" When she gave no reply, he pushed on. "I saw you today. The parlor. People like you more than they like your mother and father. If anything, it's them that need to leave."
"And what do you want me to do about it?" She felt so hopeless suddenly.
His fingers descended upon the thick rope of tawny hair on her back, working through the ribbon and letting her hair spread over her back. "Let your hair down," he murmured in reply.
She blinked at him. "What?"
"You should let your hair down."
"Don't change the subject."
"I'm not. That's what I want you to do."
"…Idiot," she muttered, not caring that she had just insulted a nobleman to his face. It would only be one more thing to add to her crimes against polite society.
"Will you do it?" He was surprisingly persistent with the topic.
Izumi wondered why her hair of all things was so important, but she let it go. She would figure it out, eventually. "Yes."
He suddenly smiled, and she felt overwhelmed by the attention. His smile wasn't effusive or bright – he wouldn't be lighting up rooms with it any time soon – but there was honesty in it. She reveled in the gesture.
And she still didn't know his first name. Startled by the sudden return of her rational mind, she jerked her head up from the comfortable crook of his shoulder and nearly hit his forehead. He stared at her, bewildered. When she asked, "What's your name?" for the second time, complete silence reigned over the entire room.
Her visitor turned his gaze up to the ceiling, exasperated. Madame Lori was biting her lip to keep from laughing out loud.
"Kouji," he said finally. "Call me Kouji."
"Kouji," she repeated, thoughtfully. He pulled her down to the chair with him so that she was seated right across from him. The bag lay on the floor, completely forgotten. Wiry fingers reached up to touch her cheek and tuck her hair back.
"May I call you by your first name now?" Kouji sounded almost petulant and she laughed.
"Yes."
"Good." His fingers ran down her side gently. "Where are you going?"
The subject change had been terribly abrupt, and Izumi wondered what he was talking about for a while before he quietly clarified. Honestly, she didn't know whether she should even leave town anymore. It would be interesting, to say the least, if she did stay and see where the light kisses and touches were going to go. Izumi had never let things get this far before.
On the other hand, she couldn't exactly stay with her parents anymore. She had let them have the upper hand too long and they were getting obsessed with something that she could barely care about.
And that something-she-could-barely-care-about would inevitably get tangled into the relationship she had with Kouji. It couldn't be helped. Neither of them could change who their parents were or how much money they were set to inherit.
It would take a solid miracle for things to work out.
But they didn't have to work out, did they?
A warm palm settled on her hip, and she smiled.
Someday, they would probably teach each other how to be miserable. But as long as that day wasn't here yet, she didn't really care.