The Hunter

Chapter Eighteen

Sunlight streamed through the sudare screens covering the windows, casting alternating patterns of light and shade across the tatami. Rin stared at a spot on the wall opposite to where she lay and listened to the sound of Kohaku's breaths. He'd been awake for some time but lay there quietly staring at the ceiling. She wondered if he'd slept at all. She certainly hadn't but was too exhausted to feel it anymore.

After hours of silent tears spilt over the loss of her old life and the one she wanted, a sense of calm had settled over her. It was like the mountain after a storm, when the clouds would hover low around its base looking spent, all but drained of their menace. She blinked, noticing how tight and swollen her eyes felt and reasoned that the rest of her must look equally worn. It certainly wasn't the lasting impression she'd wanted to leave Kohaku with.

He stirred behind her, finally getting up from his bed. She listened as he slowly pulled his clothes on one item at a time. His boots were last and once he had them on he headed out the door and closed it behind him with a dull snap.

In his absence the weight in the room lifted and the breath escaped her lungs in a single exhale. She sat up slowly, aware of every part of herself. Her body was tender and ached with the lingering impression of Kohaku's touch. It was a bitter reminder of their perfect last night together. Her hands moved listlessly to re-tie her kimono and straighten her hair. She missed the sense of purpose that used to guide her days. For weeks she'd known where this journey of theirs would end, but each new morning had brought with it the promise of the unexpected, of adventure. Anything could happen on the road to Edo - and it had! But it was over now. They had one last day, one final destination.

She shivered and warmed her hands next to the hibachi. She was still there when Kohaku returned carrying a breakfast tray in-hand. His look was fleeting as he set the tray on the table. He ran a distracted hand through his hair, making it stand up on end. The way he moved about, shifting his weight from foot to foot, made him appear nervous and self-aware. With a sweeping glance she took in his hunched shoulders and the dark smudges beneath his eyes. Sleep had eluded him as well.

Kohaku swiped a hand wearily over his face and then gestured at the tray.

"I thought you might be hungry," he offered, his voice sounding rougher than usual. She noticed he hadn't brought a tray for himself.

A 'thank you' hovered on her tongue, but the effort needed to force it past her lips felt monumental and far beyond what she was capable of at the moment. Instead she bowed her head and turned back to the small fire in front of her. The thought of eating made her stomach harden into stone.

While she added more charcoal to the hibachi Kohaku tidied their futons, piling them neatly in the corner of the room. When he was finished he knelt at the small table, looking anywhere but at her. He was stalling, though whether it was for her benefit or his own she couldn't be certain. In any case, it didn't matter. There was no sense dragging out the inevitable and the longer it stretched the more oppressive the silence in the room became. When she could no longer stand it, she got to her feet, slipped on her geta and headed out the door. By the time Kohaku joined her she was already seated atop their horse, impassively watching the comings and goings of the street.

Kohaku begrudgingly climbed up behind her in the saddle. Her eyes closed as his arm wrapped familiarly around her waist. The sudden flash of memories from the night before left her skin prickling and the hairs on her arms standing up on end. Perhaps he felt it too, because with a self-conscious gesture his arm fell away and he grabbed up the reins instead. With a soft cluck of his tongue and a gentle kick the beast sauntered down the road in the direction of the daimyo's residence.

The previous day Kohaku had explained the design of the daimyo's residences to her. Edo had many and they were large, often taking up entire city blocks. Behind the walls that separated a residence from the street, there existed a series of buildings where a daimyo and his entourage lived. The closer a residence was to the Emperor's palace, the more important that daimyo was to the Heavenly Ruler.

The kimiyashiki, the primary residence of the Uesugi clan, was not so close to the castle. They were outsiders, tozama; all that remained of those who'd lost the Battle of Sekigahara. Outwardly, at least, the Uesugi clan expressed a reluctant loyalty to the Emperor but warrior clans were not cut out for playing politics. It was certain death to challenge His authority, but even that would not keep the fighting spirit of a samurai contained for long.

Kohaku suddenly drew their horse to a halt next to a large wooden gate. He gazed up at it long and hard then slid out of the saddle. He helped her down and his hands lingered about her waist even after her feet were firmly on the ground. The warmth of his touch burned through her clothes and ate at her resolve. She'd been certain she could do this until this very moment. A whisper of doubt crowded her thoughts and she reluctantly stepped out of his reach. Kohaku let her go and didn't reach for her again.

They turned in unison to inspect the gate towering over them. It rose up out of the street like a monolith, lending the narrow street a sense of foreboding and mystery. Kohaku led her through its daunting wooden arch and into the daimyo's garden.

The barren landscape featured no wildlife of any kind – no trees or shrubs, gardens or bit of green. There were plenty of soldiers. And guns. Her pace slowed and she sent Kohaku a nervous look. He attempted a reassuring glance; the result was divided between a pained grimace and a pitying frown.

"You there, what business do you have here?"

They turned and saw one of the guards step away from the entrance of the daimyo's residence. With his hand on the hilt of his blade he advanced towards them.

"Do not do this," Kohaku pleaded. "We will find another way."

Her eyes shifted between Kohaku and the steadily approaching guard. She shook her head and her mouth went dry. What did it matter now? With this last step his mission was complete, his village spared for another season. There was no other way and they both knew it.

"It is too late to go back now," she answered and hid her trembling hands in the folds of her kimono.

Kohaku looked as though he wanted to say something more, but the guard had arrived. He stopped a few feet away, eyeing them speculatively.

"I will not ask again, boy. What business do you have here?"

Kohaku straightened and asked for an audience with the daimyo. The guard gave him a flat look and then retreated into the main building. He returned a short time later, accompanied by a portly man with eyes that were too large for his head.

"His lordship is not available. What business do you have with him?"

Rin disliked the man's haughty nature immensely. Many men like him had visited her brothel and all had considered themselves worthy of some special treatment. Most had turned out to be cheap and cruel.

"I am Kohaku of Komono-mura in Dewa province," she heard Kohaku reply. "I have come to humbly ask the favour of the lord and brought a gift as a show of my village's gratitude."

The man glanced around Kohaku's lithe frame and looked her up and down. He inspected her as one would a prize horse, his large eyes missing no fault or imperfection. Rin stood still and did her best to look unaffected by the fact that she was being sold once more.

"Your gift is acceptable," the man said with a perfunctory nod. "I will tell his lordship of your request."

He motioned to the guards with a wave of his hand and they closed in. One moment she was standing stiffly at the bottom of the stairs and the next she was being roughly dragged away. In a moment of panic she couldn't stop herself from calling out to him.

"Kohaku!"

Instinct made him reach for his blade and it was only by sheer force of will that he did not draw it. To do so in the daimyo's residence was an act of aggression punishable by death. His hand trembled with restraint and he clenched it into a tight fist at his side. Across the yard Rin was pulled towards a darkened door of the residence and he turned his face away, unable to watch her go.

"Will that be all?"

Kohaku met the probing eyes of the man before him and barely managed a nod.

"In that case, you may show yourself out."

The man pointed expectantly at the gate and Kohaku moved unsteadily towards it. His legs felt weak and his shoulders remained knotted from the effort it had taken to fight his protective instincts. Once he was through the gates the guards closed the heavy doors behind him and he was suddenly alone.

Every bone in his body told him to go back inside and explain that he'd made a mistake, but his foolish feet guided him to his horse and he pulled himself up into the saddle. In the end, he had nowhere left to go and so turned the beast in the direction of his village and ran.

xXx

Rin was deposited with little enthusiasm in what looked to be a tea room. It was small and perfectly square, with a tatami-matted floor. She considered the wall hangings and bowl of flowers that had been set out before dropping her gaze to the sleeve of her kimono. The sunflowers were obnoxiously bright and cheerful, a reflection of her mood when she'd chosen the fabric, and the sight of them suddenly made her angry. She felt like such a fool.

A sliding door opened at the other end of the room and an older woman bustled in. She was dressed in a long-sleeved, cream-hued kimono and walked with a business-like air about her. She didn't bother to introduce herself before she began barking orders.

"Stand up. Let me look at you."

Rin did as she was told and turned in a slow circle. The woman studied her with a cruel gaze and a firm set to her mouth. Eventually she nodded her head and folded her hands in front of her.

"Well, you're not the most unfortunate creature I've ever seen, but I still have a fair bit of work ahead of me. I will rejoice the day they realize you can't turn a dirty-kneed inaka brat into a lady with a smear of makeup and some new clothes."

Rin blinked at her assessment and decided in that moment that she hated this woman.

"Hurry up," she huffed, gesturing towards the door, "Don't waste my time."

Rin was led down an empty hall to another room. This one was larger than the first and the floor was wood. In the centre stood a large wooden tub, already filled to the brim with steaming water.

"Undress."

Begrudgingly, Rin untied the obi at her waist and made certain Kohaku's knife remained hidden in the folds. The kimono he'd bought slipped silently to the floor and she hurried to step into the water. It was too hot and instantly turned her skin red, but one glance at the old woman told her she wouldn't be allowed out.

From the other end of the room, two servants emerged bearing a pile of towels, assorted bathing necessities, and new clothes. They deposited the lot onto the floor next to her and attacked in unison.

The older of the pair took to her hair, vigorously scrubbing it with soap and combing out the knots. The other scrubbed at her hands and feet until the skin was red and sore. She bore it all in silence, having little desire to make herself appear weak by complaining or crying out.

With her best attempt at appearing cool and indifferent, she turned to the older woman whose sharp grey eyes were carefully evaluating the servants' progress.

"Are there many others like me in the palace?" she asked.

The woman's painted lips twisted into a sneer, "You aren't the first."

"When shall I meet his lordship?"

She barked out a harsh laugh, "Whenever he sees fit, you stupid girl."

The woman directed her next command to the servants who were still busily cleaning her from head to toe.

"Rinse her off and get her dressed. Oh, and get rid of that kimono. We don't need it stinking up the place."

"No!"

Rin surprised herself with her sudden outburst. She looked down to find both servants staring up at her with stunned expressions.

"I have been given to his lordship as a gift, not a slave. Those are my possessions and you will not touch them."

She was afraid of them finding her knife, her only true means of defending herself, but there was more to it than that. The silly, sentimental part of her wasn't yet ready to get rid of her last link to Kohaku. She knew she'd never see him again, but at least for now she needed that one last reminder of what freedom had felt like.

Scoffing at her audacity, the woman slowly walked up to her and slapped her sharply across the cheek.

"I don't care what you are. You belong to his lordship now and I have been entrusted to ensure you behave appropriately. You would be wise to remember that. Keep your stupid kimono for all I care. With an attitude like that, I promise you won't live long enough to miss it."

Turning heel she instructed the servants to make 'the inaka brat' presentable and then departed out the door. It snapped shut behind her and Rin plopped back down into the tub. The servants resumed their duties but were careful to avoid her gaze.

By the time the old woman returned, Rin had been primped, prodded and dressed in a formal kimono comprised of many layers. She wondered why they bothered with it at all if the daimyo was just going to rip it off of her the moment she was alone with him. It seemed like such a wasted effort.

The older woman circled her slowly while the servants stood by, waiting to hear her assessment. Her eyes lingered on Rin's face, scrutinizing the layers of white makeup they'd applied to hide her sun-darkened skin.

"This will have to do," she sighed, sounding less than impressed by what she saw. Rin bit her tongue and kept her eyes on the floor.

"His lordship has requested your presence. It seems he is bored this evening and in need of a distraction. Come along."

The woman exited into the hall with Rin following closely behind. She led her through a maze of bare hallways. There was no warmth in this place. Each hall and room looked the same, exactly as cold and austere as the one before it.

Before the only set of painted doors the woman suddenly stopped and knelt. At her insistence, Rin knelt next to her and studied the door's artwork. It featured a battle scene – two armies facing one another across a great river. What the artist lacked in talent he made up for with his use of colour. In a palace coloured in shades of white and brown, the gold, blue and red hues of the door stood out in stark contrast.

Next to her, the woman knocked softly before announcing her presence and opening the door.

"My lord, your guest is here as you requested. If you should need anything I will be right outside."

With a sharp look she motioned for Rin to go in. She bowed low at the door and then shuffled inside on her knees. The door snapped shut behind her and then it was silent. The room was dark, the only light cast off by a dim lantern in the far corner.

"What is your age?"

The voice came from one of the darker corners of the room and Rin bowed her head. "I am in my seventeenth year," she answered easily.

Most people merely guessed at their age, but the year she was born a great shooting star had torn across the sky. The rice harvest had suffered from drought the following year and many in her village had been convinced the star was a bad omen. As a result, she'd always had a fairly accurate account of exactly how old she was.

"Where did the boy find you?"

She considered her options. She could easily lie and tell him the name of her village, or one of the previous ones they'd travelled through. A part of her defiantly insisted on the truth. Perhaps if he knew her past, he would lose interest in her and set her free.

"At a brothel in Kyoto."

His silence was penetrating and Rin froze in expectation of his reaction.

"So I am to be offered used goods now?"

The carelessness of his comment bruised what was left of her pride. She decided that she hated this man too.

"Go. I have no interest in you tonight."

The words had barely left his lips before the sliding door opened and the old woman entered. Rin bowed low in the general direction of where the daimyo's voice had emanated from and then retreated out the door. She was led her through a maze of hallways to a new room. This one was smaller than the other and plain; there were no hanging pictures or painted vases with flowers. A hibachi sat at the room's centre emanating a faint bit of heat and a futon had been laid out next to it.

"You may sleep here," the old woman instructed and shoved her inside. "Don't get too comfortable. Chances are good you'll be dead by morning."

Rin turned to demand the reason why, but was met with the snap of the sliding door. She heard the old woman instruct a guard to keep watch outside and then there was only silence. Her heart was still thrumming in her ears when she finally turned away from the door.

A rogue tear escaped down her cheek and she quickly brushed it away. She would not feel sorry for herself. This had been her decision, after all, her choice in the end. It did no one any good to wallow in self-pity and she refused to take part in such a pointless practice. Her body, however, had other ideas in mind. Exhaustion, frustration and anger collided and stripped away her carefully built walls until she was sobbing into the sleeve of her yukata.

It didn't escape her notice that in this moment of weakness the only thing she wanted more than her freedom was Kohaku's arms around her and his voice in her ear telling her that everything would be fine.

Author's Note: I'm not sure if anyone's still reading this little fic, but if you are I apologize for the delayed update. Life has been...well...crazy would be one word for it. My updates will be a little sporadic for the next month or two but after that things should be back to normal. Hope you'll stick with me! Things seem doom and gloom now, I know, but they'll take an interesting turn for Rin next chapter. Stay tuned!

Until next time,

Langus