Thank you for all your comments. I appreciate them a lot.

I'll try to make things clearer as to who is speaking, and when flashbacks are happening. However, I feel that too much description would break the flow of Shizuru's narration. I hope you understand.


I was at a fence along a cliff, trying to look down at an apple orchard. The top of the fence was slightly taller than me, and I started to tiptoe.

Then I remembered. Good girls did not tiptoe, my mother had told me.

I dropped back to my feet, and looked in father's direction. He was still talking to his friends. I turned back to the fence, pressing my feet firmly to the ground. I strained again to gaze at the orchard.

There, rows of trees stretched past the horizon and painted the field a lush green. Spots of red dotted the green, and the spaces were filled with shadow that danced pleasingly in the wind.

It is all yours.

I hummed to that suggestion.

Someone spoke in the background, though I was not listening

"Shizuru-sama," Otsune repeated. I turned from the orchard to the old servant, and saw my father and his friends walking away.

"It is time to leave."

I nodded.

That night, I ate the sweetest apples I had ever tasted.


I was shaken from my thoughts by my mother. Her hand withdrew from my arm and she regained some composure. Still, her façade had broken, showing the frightened women beneath. I sympathised with her.

My father had left this morning without a word. The only hints as to his reason were the letters he had been reading with increasing distress, but would not reveal.

I, on the other hand, had not been myself for many days.

My mother started to speak, but stopped.

"I am always here for you," she finally murmured.

I smiled slightly. "Thank you, mother."

I considered how to console her. Silence soon fell in the dining room.

The next day, my first uncle invited himself to our house, bearing a letter from my father. He was to be the man of the house while my father was away, the letter said. It was the first notice I had of my father's plans. There was still no word as to why he had left.

My mother folded the letter and returned it to my uncle.

"I understand," she said, her tone even.

"There is more we must discuss," my uncle said urgently. He glanced at me though the corners of his eyes. "However, it is best for children not to hear."

"That would be wise," my mother said.

I nodded and stood up. "I will be in my room."

Neither of them looked at me while I walked away, though I saw a smirk play on my uncle's face.

I closed the door with more force than I had intended. I clenched my fists for a moment before releasing it with a sigh.

I would not let my uncle win. I would not let it win.


I was sitting in a room with my mother. Outside, my father and first uncle were arguing over me, as I understood. Though I did not know what they were arguing about, I had my suspicions. Several days ago, a priest had read my palms, wearing a grimace throughout.

Since then, there had been a line of priests outside my door. Some of them looked at me and sung only praise. I was a child of the gods, they said. I was destined for great things, they said. My father tipped them generously. Other priests were not as pleasant. Them, my father dismissed in a hurry.

"…drag down the family name…"

Their argument was getting heated. I looked to my mother uncomfortably. She only shook her head.

"…does not deserve…temple…"

That was my father, defending me. I hoped he won. I did not like the idea of becoming a nun.

You know, you don't have to take this, she said.

What should I do?

She did not reply me, to my disappointment. I contented myself to staring at the table.

My mother was doing the same.


Natsuki brought in my dinner into my room that night. It had been my uncle's order, she said, looking away.

Of course.

At least I could thank him for sending Natsuki. While she looked away, I let my eyes wander.

No, that was not what I wanted, I reminded myself, as I clamped one hand across another arm.

"Thank you," I said, many moments too slow. She nodded, then stood there, shifting her feet. She was waiting for me to dismiss her. I smiled inside, though I could not show it.

"Natsuki-" I began, but she spoke first.

"You saw me the other day," she said. She looked aside, and shifted her feet some more.

"Thank you," she finally said, before half-running out of the room.

I was left with a confused, mouth half-open smile.


"The master wants you to remain in your room," said Kenji. He too looked away.

"I understand," I said, as I stepped back into the house.

"I'm really sorry."

"It is no matter," I said with a slight smile.

The boy smiled back with relief.


Burn his house. He would have to return, it suggested.

Magnificent flames flashed in my mind. I was standing at its edge, watching it leap pillar to pillar, eating everything in its path. Bits of burning wood dropped to the floor as buildings collapsed and the scent of ash filled my lungs.

No, I insisted, shaking my head. My thumb scuffed the edge of my book, frustrating me further.

It is what you want, it said enticingly.

No, it is what you want.

It looked at me knowingly.

I wanted to leave, to storm from my room and from it, but I could not, thanks to my uncle. If it burnt his house down, he only had himself to blame.

No, that was how it wanted me to think. It was playing with me, tempting me with those thoughts. I was not a low-life. I was the daughter of the Fujino family. I would win.

I turned to thoughts of Natsuki, to distract me from the demon. I thought of her thanks, and her embarrassed escape. It made me smile again.

I wanted to hold her, to hug her, to serenade her with song and poetry. It would not corrupt me.

It is what you want, it repeated. My hand smashed through the side of the table. Splinters of wood scattered on the floor. I looked at my hand in disgust.

Would she have done that? it mocked.

I did not admit the truth.


I stared at the books that were placed at the side of the table. They stared back at me in silence. I pulled out one book, then placed it back into the row. My fingers played along the top of the table.

I stood up and walked to the shoji. I placed my hand on the screen, suppressing my urge to tear through the paper. I walked back to the table and sat down.

I would meditate, I decided, so I stood up again and sat on the floor. No sooner than I had sat down, I had to stand again. I breathed deeply to sooth my frustration, but it did not sooth the itch in my legs.

I walked to the table and pulled out a book…


Please stay, I wanted to beg of her, as she turned her back to me. I could only watch, tortured, as the shoji slid shut. The food was cold comfort.

I pressed my fists against the table. My teeth were clenched. I needed to cry, but I could not. I had trained all the tears away.


It came like hunger, in fits and starts. Sometimes, there was nothing to do but to sit and wait out the hours in agony. Sometimes, I barely felt myself wasting away. The only times I felt alive was when she attended to me.

They made the demon's calls all the stronger.


Several days into my imprisonment, my father sent me a letter. According to the servant, the mother had pushed my uncle into passing it to me. I imagined him agreeing with a scowl. I wanted to smack that scowl off his face.

The letter itself said nothing new. He was busy with politics. It was too uninteresting to mention in detail. He was in good health and spirits.

It seemed secrecy ran in families.

I picked up my pen and started to write a reply:

'I am thankful for your good health.

Mother and I have been missing you. Uncle has been good to us, but it is not the same without you.

I hope your business is resolved soon. Then, we may eat seafood nabe together with uncle.

There is no need to worry about us. Mother and I are in good health, and uncle has been managing the house well. Mother has finally finished her painting. She tells me we should hang it up in the entrance room.

As for me, I have finished reading The Snow Lady for the fifth time. The rain makes for good reading, and book is every bit as interesting as when I had first read it.'

I stopped my pen for a moment and played with it.

'There has also been a demon possessing me since I was young. It tells me to rape, to break, to burn. It seems uncle was right after all.'

I put down my pen and laughed. Then I laughed some more.

When I stopped, I crumpled the letter with a scowl. Then I laughed some more.

The thought of burning buildings was a happy one.

Best of all, it was my thought.


There was no one in the house to put out the flames. Whispered threats in the night saw to that. In hindsight, threats would have been enough. But there was no fun in that.

Yes, there was something wrong with me.

The wrongness made the roaring flames and churning winds all the more magnificent.


You won.

The norimono jumped as it crossed a bump in the road. My father's eyes were closed, though I could not imagine how he slept in the crammed cabin.

Stealing is wrong.

Who said so?

I paused to think. Mother and father, I said unsurely.

Who are they to say?

I could not reply.

It is all yours, it repeated, with a wide grin.

The orchard opened up before me, and the fresh scent of fruit filled the air.

All you need to do is to take it.