As they started up the harder path to the shrine, Slade turned to Yukie and remarked, "So, after more than two years together, despite everything we've done and everything we've been through, somehow it never occurred to you to wonder why I made the time to see you at least once a month and often more?" He was not bothering to hide his amusement.
"The—," she paused to think. "The obvious reason was the sex. It has always been very good." The color was up in her face again, and it had nothing to do with the climb. How had he ever thought Cheshire more appealing than Yukie? With women like Jade Nyugen, you got the full effect all in one glance, and beauty was overrated anyway. With Yukie, there was much more to discover.
"You know, I like it when you blush. It reminds me of how you look after you come. If all I wanted was to get laid, the world is full of opportunities. I don't pursue them; I'm not sixteen anymore, with nothing on my mind but fucking. Come October, I'll be sixty. Old enough to know what I want, what I need. Old enough to know what truly matters. I come to you because the body doesn't stay attracted to somebody the rest of you doesn't like."
"The less obvious reason is that you trust me enough to fall asleep afterward. It is not that you think I'm harmless. You think no one is harmless."
"That's not a response to what I just said," he prompted.
"Slade—I have gotten to this point only by telling myself this, what there is between us, is only about sex. It is my coping mechanism. If it is only about sex, then I don't feel as I did when I was married, swimming around and around in a dirty aquarium with the oxygen depleted. If it is only about sex, then some day when you no longer return my calls, I can shrug it off. If it is only about sex, then some day, when someone who knows about us asks me 'Did you hear what happened to Deathstroke?', and I look on line, where there is graphic footage of your terrible death at the hands of an entire army, for I do not doubt it would take nothing less, then I might be rather sad, but not—not destroyed."
She was so serious that it was even more comical. "It's not that difficult to dodge an entire army. They're ill equipped to hunt down only one man. But far be it for me to interfere with your mental processes. All right, despite everything, including this vacation, and that the only other people who would voluntarily afflict themselves with my constant company for eight weeks are those who are so much more afraid of someone else that they're willing to pay me to protect them, this is only about sex. Despite the kindness you're showing my daughter, this is only about sex. Despite—."
"Must you tease me so?"
"I'm merely agreeing with you," he assured her. "It's only about sex. Hold on a moment. Who knows about us?"
"Practically everyone who was at the Jian Wu championship, everyone they cared to gossip to, and anyone who they in turn gossiped to. Also those who have watched the video Mr. Cobblepot has of the duel, those who have seen us together in Gotham City—."
"I take your point. Has anyone given you any trouble about it?" he asked.
"No. Between your reputation and my…unprepossessing appearance, very few even mention our association."
"Your unprepossessing appearance?"
"I was told rather recently that I am not what they would have expected you would pick for 'fun and games'," she replied.
"Who are they to presume?"
"He turned up in the river two days later, so he is not presuming anything any longer. Not my doing, though I cannot say I was grieved….Do you truly not pursue those opportunities?" she asked, tentatively.
"Ah—," It took him a fraction of a second to recall what she meant. "Since I decided on you, I have not gone to bed with anyone else in any sense of the word, whether technically in a bed or otherwise. Does that surprise you?"
"Yes. We never made each other any sort of promises. I have not been with anyone else, but then you could no doubt tell as much from a hundred different signs."
"I know." They had reached the shrine, where he scanned the area, looking over the building and the terrace with its bare trees.
"These are plum and apricot trees," Yukie said. "They're the earliest to bloom. In only a few weeks, these will all be in flower, at least here in this area. In the mountains, where we'll be by then, everything will still be too cold. Now where's Rose?"
Looking around for his daughter, they parted company to hunt more efficiently. About Yukie's fears he could do little but—simply continue to be there. Time was the only cure. Clearly he needed to ask her what she was thinking more often. Her feelings were as clear to him as well water, but where Adeline, for example, got mad at other people, Yukie got mad at herself. He could see that now.
However, he was also hoping they ran into Yukie's ex-husband, now brother-in-law, somewhere or other during their trip. Originally he'd thought he might shake the man's hand for lowering her expectations to the point where simply treating her like an adult human being was more than enough and treating her as the treasure she was, overwhelmed her. Now Slade planned to hit him somewhere the worm would never forget. Looking forward to it put a smile on his face.
In that frame of mind, he came across Rose, who was talking to two Japanese girls about her age. They started when he joined them, staring at him agog, and small wonder, for he no doubt outweighed the two of them put together, besides being well over a foot taller. Rose performed the introductions, but they could barely squeak out a greeting.
Yukie's arrival put them more at ease, and they welcomed her thankfully. Rose explained why they were there, about their University Boot Camp and their drive to better their lives. "Rose-chan says you are a graduate of Tokyo-University, Kuwano-san," the shorter, auburn haired girl said.
"Yes, I am," she replied. "It was a very positive experience and made all the difference in my life. Your teacher is right. It will change your life. But while it is true that Tokyo University is like a left-eyed flounder and all others are right-eyed flounders—this will take some explaining to Rose and my husband." She got the word 'husband' out without any hesitation, which he took as a positive sign.
"Left-eyed flounders make very delicious sashimi—by left-eyed, I mean that when you place the fish on a table face-up, the fish faces to the left, and right-eyed face to the right—but right-eyed flounders differ a great deal depending on the kind you get and the season of the year. Some have little meat on them or have a muddy taste, but others are very good to eat. Some people even prefer the lighter taste and refreshing texture of the good right-eyed kind. My point is, don't despise all right-eyed flounders just because they aren't left-eyed. The most important thing is that you don't go hungry, if you catch my meaning. Apply to Tokyo University, but apply to a few others besides. Don't starve yourselves just because the left-eyed kind evades your hook."
"Thank you, Kuwano-san," the girls chorused.
"Please, do your very best," she told them. "Now, do either of you know the tale of how the fire of 1689 got started? That was what I brought Rose and her father here for. You're welcome to stay and hear it, if you like."
"Uh—I don't remember how it started, but it killed a hundred thousand people, didn't it?" the auburn haired girl said. "They still sometimes find mass graves when they excavate around the city."
"I remember," said the taller, quieter girl. "It was the Kimono Fire."
"That's right. You see, many years ago, before the fire, there was another building over there," Yukie gestured. "Honmyoji Temple, it was called. One spring day a young woman, sixteen years old like the three of you, went there with her mother to attend services, and afterward they went for a walk in the temple gardens. There she saw a young man, a samurai in training, like a squire would be to a knight in England, hurrying after his master. He was wearing a very fine kimono which caught her eye—I have always imagined it was spring green with decorations in straw yellow and navy blue. They were considered very youthful colors then and doubly appropriate for spring.
"Umeno, for that was her name, fell in love with him. All she ever got was one glimpse of him, but that was enough. She dreamed of him at night, and daydreamed about him during the day. Her parents were surprisingly sympathetic, perhaps because as merchants, marrying their daughter into a samurai family would have bettered their social position a great deal. He would have benefited too, because samurai were paid in rice, not gold, and rice values fluctuated wildly.
"So they asked around after the young man, whose name they did not know, and in the meantime, let Umeno buy a kimono that matched his, except with the long, dangling sleeves that a young and marriageable girl wears. That kind of kimono is called a furisode, and the sleeves are called butterfly sleeves—or husband-catchers."
That made the girls giggle. "I never heard the tale told like this!" the taller girl said. "Please, go on!"
"Thank you! Unfortunately, no one knew who the young man was. Perhaps he was only visiting the city for one day, but it did not matter, because he could not be found. Umeno, heartsick with longing, went into a decline of health and died.
"Her parents were grief-stricken, and wanted to be rid of all the things that reminded them of her. Among these things were her kimono—including the one which matched her lost love's. They donated those to the temple where her funeral rites were held—Honmyoji Temple. The priests accepted the gift, and sold her belongings to raise money to help the poor.
"As I said, her clothing was intended to be worn by a young girl of marriageable age, so they were purchased for a young woman the same age. Married women wear kimono without dangling sleeves, because frankly they're impractical for anything but standing around looking pretty. The girl who got the kimono which matched Umeno's beloved also fell ill and died.
"The kimono was donated back to the same temple, and was again sold to help the poor. Again, it went to another young girl—who took ill and died as well." Yukie paused.
"I find that to be quite credible for reasons other than the supernatural. Suppose what Umeno died of was not a broken heart, but tuberculosis, which is highly contagious. Surely she had worn the kimono often, and a very fine kimono is never washed, any more than a hand-beaded, re-embroidered lace wedding gown is thrown in a washing machine today. It would destroy it. Instead you wear it over garments that can be washed, so it never touches the skin. It could have carried the disease from one girl to another.
"Whatever the causes of their deaths, once the kimono came back to the temple for the third time, the head priest realized something was wrong. The kimono had become a yokai of great and malignant power, and if it continued to exist, it would only cause more death. He called the families of all three girls together and told them what needed to happen. The kimono had to be destroyed with rites that would lay its spirit to rest.
"That called for cremation. 1689 was a very dry year, and most of the city's buildings were made of wood, bamboo, paper and reeds, so it was a good thing the rites were held apart from the rest of the city.
"But no one took into account the strength of the yokai in the kimono. It did not die easily. While it was burning, a fragment broke off, and was carried by the breeze—." Yukie gestured. "And a hundred thousand people died.
"That is the tale of the Kimono Fire."
TBC…
A/N: I'm sorry it took so long for this chapter to be posted. However, last week I did post a brand new version of Chapter 1, so if you haven't read it, it might be worth a look. I will do my best to get the next chapter up before next weekend. Thank you for bearing with me—especially my most faithful friends and readers, Swordstitcher and Tev!