The Hunter
Chapter Sixteen
The restaurant was full and warm, promising its patrons hours of relief from the night time cold. They entered and were greeted by the boisterous chatter of the other diners. The air smelled of pipe tobacco and faintly, too, of soy sauce and roasting fish.
A dozen pairs of eyes followed them from the door to their table, watching, surveying, and speculating. If she noticed, Rin made no acknowledgement of it as she sat down and glanced at the menu. Kohaku returned the stares of the other patrons. Some looked away and returned to their sake and dinner. Others did not.
Mere hours ago she'd been his alone to appreciate, his alone to adore. But that simple country girl was gone. Across from him sat a woman, as elegant and refined as any lady of the merchant city. There was nothing simple or country about her. He'd known that from the beginning, but now the others knew it too and it left him feeling restless.
"Is everything okay?"
His eyes met hers and his stomach did a nervous flip. Smiling politely he replied, "Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"
Her shoulders lifted in a light shrug. "You haven't touched your dinner. And you keep glaring at the other tables."
He looked down at the cold meal in front of him as if only just noticing it was there. With his stomach twisted up in knots, eating was simply not an option. He made a show of picking up his chopsticks anyhow.
"Everything's fine," he lied.
She didn't look convinced but didn't press the issue. Instead she glanced curiously about the small establishment, admiring the various prints and knick knacks adorning the walls. She caught the eye of a man at the table adjacent to theirs. He smiled and she smiled back. Kohaku tensed in his seat and speared a bit of chicken with his chopsticks.
It never occurred to him that he would develop feelings for her, or that they would grow into something that went beyond what logic, guilt or willpower could control. Four weeks at her side and he no longer felt confident about anything, much less his decision to hand her over to the daimyo. Suffering another wolf bite seemed preferable in the face of the choice that lay ahead.
A slight movement from her caught his eye and he followed her fingers as they tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. For days now he'd longed to touch her in just such a way, with small, simple gestures borne out of familiarity and companionship. His gaze lingered on the curve of her neck and he licked his lips. He knew what it was to kiss that skin and feel her pulse beating hard against his lips. Oh, how prudence was failing him now.
When he looked up her eyes were fixed on him and a slight furrow had formed between her brows. Realizing he'd been caught, he hurriedly glanced away but it was too late.
"What is it?" she demanded.
"Nothing," he reassured her and lifted the saucer of sake to his lips to wash the nerves back down his throat.
"I was just…" he stumbled, fumbling for a believable lie, "I-I was just wondering about your kimono..."
Her features softened and she stroked a hand over the silk covering her forearm.
"You're wondering why I chose sunflowers in winter."
He nodded and she studied the sleeve of her kimono with a long look. "They reminded me of home."
When she didn't say more, he poured some fresh tea into her cup. The unspoken question hung in the air between them as he set the teapot down. He wanted to know everything about the place she grew up but wouldn't push for any more than she was willing to give. Rin took a long sip of tea and then held the warm cup between her hands.
"Just outside my village there used to be a large field of sunflowers," she said with a note of longing in her tone. "Every summer when we were young, my brothers and I would play amongst the tall stalks. Being so small, the flowers practically swallowed us up. We could hide for hours in them before anyone found us. Are there such fields where you are from?"
He shook his head and her features fell.
"Oh. That's too bad," she said, offering him a sad smile.
Silence stretched between them, punctuated by the animated conversations taking place at the tables all around them. Her eyes lifted to his, the expression in them filled with doubt and uncertainty. It was rare that she shared anything personal with him, and rarer still when she allowed him to see her vulnerable.
"It was a good choice," he reassured her, boldly reaching across the table to take her hand. "I like the flowers."
Her eyes lingered on the place where their hands were joined and a faint blush coloured her cheeks.
"Where are you from that you don't see sunflowers in spring?" she wondered aloud.
"Dewa province, in the north," he replied, noticing that she hadn't pulled her hand away. "The winters are long and the growing season is short."
She regarded him with a thoughtful look. "My village was in Yamato province, near Mount Yoshino. Do you know it?"
Yamato was just south of Kyoto. He'd deduced that the bandits couldn't have travelled far to deliver her to the brothel, but he hadn't realized just how close she'd been. Mount Yoshino was barely a day's journey from Kyoto on horseback. He felt a fresh wave of guilt wash over him for having taken her so far from home.
"It's a small place," she added with a dismissive shrug. "Not many visit there. The mountains make it difficult for travellers."
Unable to meet her dark eyes, he released her hand and reached for the sake. She intercepted and took the bottle from his hands.
"I want to thank you for today," she said as she filled his saucer. When it was full, she poured some for herself and then set the bottle down.
"This kimono –– It's beyond words." She ran her fingers over the silk cuff of her sleeve in amazement. "I don't know how to repay ––"
"Rin – You risked your life to save mine. Consider it a small token of my gratitude for not leaving me to the mercy of a group of thugs."
She stubbornly shook her head and opened her mouth to object but was interrupted by a loud shout from the next table.
"What the hell? You bastard!"
A drunken patron stumbled to his feet and threw an uncoordinated punch at his comrade. He missed and fell into a table, sending dirty plates and cups crashing to the floor. His tablemate retaliated by drawing his katana and threatening to skewer his drunken friend like a piece of squid.
"Time to go," Kohaku instructed with a grim look. He tossed down enough money to cover their bill and Rin nervously followed him past the tussling drunkards. Once they were outside the sound of angry shouts and breaking dishes faded away.
He turned to make sure she was okay and the air swiftly escaped from his lungs. The moonlight was reflecting off her pale skin, making it appear as smooth and perfect as marble. She was positively radiant. She glanced up at him and his stomach made another nervous flip. He wished he'd thought to bring the bottle of sake with them.
"Shall we walk a little?" she asked, taking his arm. "I want to see more of this place."
They toured the deserted street together, gliding past darkened shop windows and lonely food vendors. One man was selling roasted chestnuts from a cart and the fragrant scent filled their lungs as they walked by. They'd reached the end of the street and turned down another before either of them spoke.
"How many others have there been?"
He started at the question. "What do you mean?"
"I mean this," she said, gesturing between them with her hand. "How many other girls have you taken on this journey to Edo?"
He breathed a soft sigh of relief and managed a smile.
"Would you believe me if I said you were the first?"
She lifted a dubious brow and he laughed.
"It's true! You're the first and the last."
"Did I scare you off so easily? I thought demon slayers were supposed to be fearless," she teased and playfully hit his arm.
"We might court danger, but we're not lunatics."
"That remains to be seen," she replied archly.
He grinned, happy to be talking with her so easily even if she was mocking him.
They turned down another road and passed two older women dressed in plain, neatly pressed yukata. The pair cast a few disparaging looks their way and whispered to one another behind their hands. Kohaku's momentary confusion was quickly replaced by a daunting realization – in the city it was unacceptable for a woman to be out at night without a chaperon. Such rules of etiquette had no place in the countryside, but everything was different within these city walls. Though he would have gladly spent hours walking with her, he discretely guided Rin back in the direction of the inn.
"Tell me more about Yamato province," he urged, hoping to distract her. "What season is its most beautiful?"
"Spring," she answered without hesitation. "When the snow thaws, the flowers come. The mountain is covered in a thousand cherry trees and as the weather warms they bloom row by row. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
He watched her nervously tuck those same stubborn strands of hair behind her ear and thought that he understood the sentiment all too well.
The wind picked up in a sudden chilly gust that brought with it winter's first tiny flakes of snow. They drifted down from the dark sky and settled atop their hair and shoulders. Rin stuck out her hand and caught her first snowflake of the season. She showed it to him with an eager smile, but he couldn't share her excitement. If snow had arrived in Edo that meant it'd reached his village as well. He glared up at the sky in disappointment. He'd hoped to have a few more days ––
"What is it? What's wrong?"
"The snow…," he replied sullenly. "It means we're out of time."
Her hands tightened around his arm, though whether it was out of comfort or fear he couldn't be certain.
"I've decided something," she said quietly. He inclined his head towards her, determined to hear her over the blowing wind.
"I want you to give me to the daimyo."
"What? Why?" His words emerged sounding strangled and he grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to stop and face him.
"I saw what happened to that other village," she answered, lifting her jaw defiantly. "I don't want that to happen to anyone else. If giving me to the daimyo means your village will survive the winter then it's okay, I'll go."
He gaped at her in silence, finding himself at a loss for words. For days he'd been agonizing over his decision to give her up, torn between his feelings for her and his duty to his village. He'd been dreading the hour when he would bring her to the daimyo's residence, and the goodbye that would follow shortly after––Just thinking about it was enough to make his chest feel uncomfortably tight. Never once had it occurred to him that she would go willingly and sacrifice her freedom for the sake of his village. The thought hit him with the force of a katana handle to the gut.
The words poured out of him, sounding nearly as fragmented as the thoughts in his head: "You don't have to –– If I sell the rest–– They can manage a little longer–– You can go home––"
She silenced him with the calming touch of her hand atop his arm.
"My home is gone," she reminded him with a sad smile. "Besides, we've already come this far."
He stubbornly shook his head. "I can't–– "
She gave him a pitying look and countered, "You must."
He had a hundred reasons for saying "No", all of them selfish. They remained stuck in his throat, nearly suffocating him with their need to come out.
"We'll go tomorrow, then."
He nodded stiffly at her words and she looked torn between relief and disappointment. Her hands fell away from his arm and she buried them into her long sleeves to keep them warm.
"It's cold," she observed with a tiny frown. "Perhaps we should go inside."
She tilted her head towards the inn, silently inviting him to follow her back. He hesitated, uncertain whether he could trust himself to be alone with her. The news of her imminent departure had heightened everything he felt for her, right down to the carnal parts of him that yearned to feel her body wrapped around his.
With his feet rooted to the earth he watched after her until she disappeared inside. He briefly considered finding an izakaya and drowning himself in sake until sunrise, but the nature gods had other plans in mind. A sudden sharp wind blew down the street, whipping at his face 'til his cheeks burned and his eyes watered. He shivered beneath the thin jacket he wore and eyed the inn a short distance away. It would be warm inside, and Rin would be there as well…
It took a few more minutes of trembling in the cold before he was willing to concede defeat. Uttering a soft curse, he bowed his head into the frigid wind and headed for the door.
Author's Note: Thank you for waiting! I hope you enjoyed this new chapter. Thank you to everyone who sent me such kind messages about the last chapters. Reading them really made my day.
Till next time,
Langus