3
The Unloved

There was a merciful wind blowing in her hair, a low little breeze that had come as if just to cool the smoldering emotions within her.

Kaoru was filthy. Dirt caked her knees and elbows. It was on her hands, and she could feel it under her fingernails. She looked at, and then past the twenty-four long rows of the vegetable garden she had just finished weeding and, not for the first time, seriously considered running away.

There was once a time, very long ago, that the thought might have filled her with guilt. There was once a time when she was young enough to be fooled by Aunt Urei and Uncle Shiji when they told her, as they often would, that there was nothing that she could really do, no amount of servitude or devotion that could ever repay them for adopting her from the orphanage, for giving her a place to live and feeding her from their table.

There was once a time when Kaoru believed that there were things for which to be grateful to them. The brothels and seamstress houses were full of girls like her, orphaned or abandoned in the world with few options for more honest and easier work.

So she had tried to love them. Truly, she did. She tried to look past her aunt's sharp tongue for hints of genuine kindness, worry for her welfare, or through Uncle Shiji's indifference and domineering to see any withheld fondness. But there seemed to be nothing beyond exactly what she saw and felt, day after day.

She could love the farm. The work was hard, unrelenting, and supplemented heavily with never-ending housework, but it was beautiful land, and a beautiful, endearing little home. It was in these, she could see results in her labors, and could feel appreciated, even if it was only in the health of the plants she looked after, in the affections of the stock she tended.

But…Again, but. For every good thing, there was something worse. For every moment of solace, there were a dozen harsh or bitter moments.

There was once a time when Kaoru would have traded a day's meals or the whole long length of her shining black hair for a smile or a word of thanks from her aunt or uncle.

She turned away, dusting her hands as she moved away from the garden.

What really kept her here was the simple truth that it wouldn't solve anything to run off. The land was wild and untamed but for spots and pockets of slowly expanding civilizations. A lone young woman with no money and nowhere to go could not get by in the world. She could end up in a far worse place than here.

She wanted a bath. There was laundry hanging up that needed to be taken down and ironed, but she couldn't bring herself to touch it as she was now.

Kaoru wandered in the direction of the lake. Her lake. The spot she loved the most in all her uncle's land. It was an enchanting spot, and usually a lonely one. It wasn't every day that she had enough leisurely time to enjoy a nice, cool swim, but there was time for it now, with her aunt and uncle off in town. They wouldn't be home for hours yet, enough time for her to wash away the grime from the garden and maybe…

She deliberately forced her thoughts from the road gang of convicts she had seen below the hill. No, it was just to the lake for her. A bath and a swim and a quick wash for her kimono, and then back to collect the dry laundry for the iron. A girl had no business near a prison road gang at all.

But that sounded far too much like her aunt for liking.

The water was wonderfully cold and enclosed within great towering shade trees. She was reluctant to leave. But she did still have so much work to do. Her kimono was quite damp when she put it on, but she didn't mind. It would help her keep cool when she went back to her chores.

It was time to head back, but…

The day before, she had seen there was a redheaded boy chained in with the other men.

She hesitated near the line of trees at the bottom of the hill, still listening to the dull whacks of axes and the noises of male effort floating to her on the wind.

Just a quick look, she promised herself. Just a quick look to see how the new road was coming… And she found herself climbing up the slope, and once again peering down at the chaos of activity below.

She spotted him easily, the redheaded boy…he stood out because he looked so different from the others. Such long hair, the pale skin. He was much smaller and slighter than the other men, but he also seemed fiercer and prouder, working with his body straight and his eyes met with the eyes of the road bosses. The chains weighing him down seemed things that were barely tolerated.

He was dressed oddly. His clothes were made up of deer skin, another thing which made him stand out since his clothing fit him closely among the loose-fitting gi and hakama.

Kaoru hated the road bosses. Strange though that was, since it stood to reason her ill-will should go to the prisoners, who wouldn't be there without reason. But the two men, riding with their whips in hand and guns loose in holsters wore such expressions of enjoyment as they dealt out "encouragement". The whips flicked out, and they flicked out often, dealing punishment on anyone who dared to slacken the pace. There was no reason for so much of their cruelty.

Her eyes were drawn back to the redhead. Kaoru couldn't help staring at him. His movements were full of uncanny grace, skill. There was muscle in his small, thin frame, and she felt her mouth go dry watching the rhythmic play of them in his arms and back and shoulders.

She flinched and bared her teeth in anger when the whip danced over the red-headed man's narrow back. His eyes burned with anger and pain as the lash drew blood, but he neither made a sound nor paused in his work.

The two mounted men whipped him more often than the other prisoners, hassled him more, the worst of their insults and crude innuendoes falling on him. She was unable to figure out why; he worked as hard and as fast as any of the other men.

As she watched, the prisoners were finally allowed a break to eat. Kaoru saw, heartsick with pity, that the road bosses refused to allow the red-haired man anything to eat or drink.

He said nothing, made no objections. He moved a little away from the other men and knelt in a shady spot, sitting back on his heels. His face was impassive, but his eyes were bright and cold with fury.

By chance, he glanced up the slope. Kaoru froze as their eyes met. His eyes softened, the lines of his face relaxing into a gentle smile, laced with sadness.

She was very late now. She would have to run all the way home and rush through her chores in order to make up for her dallying here. But she lingered a moment longer, smiling shyly at the young prisoner. On impulse, she raised a hand to wave.

He lifted one of his chained wrists, raising two fingers in an answering salute large enough for her to see at her distance from him, but small enough that it did not attract the notice of the other men.

Kaoru nodded once and then turned and ran for home.

She did indeed have to hurry like a madwoman through her duties, and by the end of them, she felt like her back would break in two and her knees were skinned and watery with fatigue, and there were blisters on the fingers of one hand after an accident heating the iron for the laundry.

But her aunt and uncle were none the wiser, and that was good.

That night, though, they were entertaining guests for dinner. Kaoru's aunt was an old and very bitter woman, but she was also very concerned with how she appeared in the small society of Iyo. The labors of her adoptive niece allowed time for her to go visiting and on social outings. Kaoru's presence in her home was a great show of selflessness, sacrifice, and kindness on Aunt Urei and Uncle Shiji's part; not everyone was willing to open their home to an orphan. This impression Urei was careful to cultivate.

The guests over for dinner this night, however, were two of the few who had known this mismatched family intimately enough to know better.

Miki and his wife Nara owned a general store in town. They were both reserved and friendly. Nara did most of the talking; Miki always said little. But he had very expressive eyes that took in what was around him and reflected back his thoughts more plainly than if he had spoke them out.

Such as now, Kaoru could see the pinched corners of Miki's eyes as he listened to her uncle speak of the new road being carved out near the ridge, only a stone's throw away from his own farm.

"That road'll come in handy," Shiji drawled, slurping his tea. "And at no cost to us!"

He patted his pockets, obviously pleased the work was being done with no taxes or donations collected from the town to pay the workers.

Nara's mouth thinned slightly. "It's not right to force those men to work. They're criminals, but they're not slaves."

Shiji waved a hand in dismissal. "Probably some volunteered, Nara-san. To get some sunlight and fresh air. Good for 'em too. More useful like this than just sitting around in cells eating free food and growing old."

Kaoru set down her chopsticks, folding her hands absently in her lap. Her hands wouldn't stay still, though, fingers twisting together. She couldn't imagine him, the red-haired young man, volunteering to be chained up and worked mercilessly under the lash like that. No, she was fairly certain that this was forced on him, part of his punishment.

And what could he had possibly done to deserve this?

"Girl!" Kaoru started, jerked from her thoughts by her aunt's sharp voice. "Sit up straight and give your attention to our guests."

Cheeks aflame, Kaoru straightened her back and inclined her head in apology to Nara, who shook her head subtly in exasperation with Urei, whose interruption with the admonishment had been far more distracting than Kaoru's attention wandering.

This was Urei's way, trying to make her look foolish whenever they had company. But Nara and Miki were old acquaintances and had seen it done time and again.

Uncle Shiji grew bored with the topic of the road and the conversation turned to more pleasant things. He and Urei saw their guests out after a sweet desert, and of course it was Kaoru who began to clear away and prepare to see to the dishes.

Arms laden with their tea cups and leftovers, Kaoru glanced out the kitchen window. It was getting darker, and she hoped the men on the road gang had long since been allowed to stop and were eating their own suppers now.

And she hoped they had fed the red-haired man this time.