In between Taneka's next visit, many events came to pass.

As the winter chill crept into the air, I was gifted a thick hanten jacket to wear over a new grey kimono.

"I can't accept this," I said to Ikeda-san when she presented the box to me. It was the most expensive gift I had ever been given and I told them so.

"If you shiver in the cold all day, you're less productive," Ikeda-san said and, swayed by her logic, I took the box in my hands reluctantly and opened it.

I ran my hand over the fabric. It was soft and luxurious feeling, though the striped design was deliberately not eye-catching. If I had the money, I would've chosen it for myself.

"This is too lovely," I stared plaintively at Toshikazu who only returned my stare passively. My sister always said it was bad taste to reject someone's gift but it really was too generous. I could just wear a winter shawl over one of my two yukatas and call it a day.

"I will also increase the frequency of your lessons to three times a week," the old man said. I sat up straighter. This was a wonderful gift as well. "You've earned it."

"That, I can easily accept," I smiled at him.

The entire week I cooked their favourite meals. Huge bowls of katsudon, rich beef broth and steamed fish marinated in soy sauce and sesame oil. I even tried my hand at making dango and drizzled it in a honey syrup.

"You're making us fat," Ikeda-san said, though now that I was proficient in the different tones she used when speaking, I could tell she was secretly pleased.

"Then we shall all be fat together," I replied with a smile. Having some meat on your bones was a privilege not everyone had. It was heartening to see my elderly master and his housekeeper eat so well.

"It looks as good as the dishes I ate when I was a student in Tokyo," Toshikazu said and then complained about how expensive the ingredients must have been to purchase in a Depression.

"I got a good deal from the butcher," I replied. "You only have to ask the shopkeepers for a cheaper price nicely and they'll agree to it easily enough."

I caught the look the two of them exchanged at that statement but didn't think too much of it.

I had spent nearly two seasons in the town. Though I spent the majority of the time in the house, which was located in the outskirts, I occasionally ventured into the center when Ikeda-san woke up with stiff joints and aches over her body that prevented her from doing the weekly shopping by herself.

"Good morning, Chiyo-chan," The vegetable stall owner said with a smile that showed his crooked yellow teeth. Despite his humble appearance, I found that he was kind and good friends with Ikeda-san.

"Good morning!" I replied cheerfully.

"Is that a new kimono I see?"

I give him a quick twirl, feeling very mature in today's outfit. "Yes. It was a gift."

"You get prettier every time I see you."

"Thank you," I was embarrassed at the unexpected praise. Businessmen would say anything to get you to buy their goods. Their flattery had no limits. "What do you have today?"

"Sweet potatoes are good," he said. "I've got one or two pumpkins."

"I'll have a pumpkin then," I requested, looking at the large green pumpkins that I knew would last a few meals. "How much?"

He quoted a price that sounded reasonable to me so I agreed.

"Two sweet potatoes on the house," he said, slipping the purple vegetables in my basket with a wink. "My gift to you."

"Thank you," I said with a slight bow.

"See you next time," Yamaguchi said. "Send Ikeda-san my regards."

"Of course," I told him sincerely.

On my way down the street, I was stopped by Ryoichi, the fishmonger's apprentice who was a few years older than me. He had taken to seeking me out every time I entered the town centre. While I grew up next to the sea and watched people filet fish every day, I didn't like the way the smell seemed to follow him around.

"Hi, Chiyo-chan," he said, flashing me a smile. He wasn't bad looking, just annoying enough to me that it made him ugly in my eyes.

"Ryoichi-kun," I greeted, not meeting his eyes, speeding up.

He quickly stepped in front of me, forcing me to stop.

"When will you go out with me?"

"As I've told you before, I don't intend to date anyone," I tilted my head up to give him my coolest stare, learned from studying Ikeda-san for many moons. "And you should get back to work."

"Not before I give you the best deal you'll get today," he said. "A whole sea bass for seven yen."

"Seven?" That sounded expensive.

"I'll make it five for you," he said, leaning forward and holding the sleeve of my new kimono between his thumb and forefinger. I stayed carefully still, despite every muscle of my body telling me to yank my arm away from him. "Since you look so pretty today."

I was sure he didn't mean it, since he also said I looked pretty when I stopped by the fish stall in my heavily-mended yukata and greasy hair from frying tempura the night before. He probably said that to all the girls he came across, on the off chance that one of them would be flattered enough to agree to go out with him.

Turning my nose up at him, I said, "I'd rather buy it at ten yen."

Ryoichi tightened his grip on my kimono sleeve. A dark emotion clouded his his eyes before he smiled again. "Have it your way."

"Let go," I warned, trying to estimate how much damage I could do with my basket. "It's new."

"It's new?" Ryoichi raised his eyebrows. "Then you'll have to be careful with it, otherwise something so soft and pretty won't last."

I did not like what he was implying but at least he finally released my sleeve.

"Have a nice day," I said politely, looking down at the ground.

"Until next time, Chiyo-chan."

I hurried down the street, deciding to skip the fishmonger's stall.

In the grocery store, I picked up a new bag of rice flour and scheduled a delivery of chopped firewood for the next day.

"Chiyo-san," the grocer's youngest daughter, a plump girl a few years my junior, slithered up to me outside the store after I paid the bill. "Where did you get this kimono? It looks brand-new."

"Good morning, Hanako-chan," I said, smiling at her. "It was a gift from Toshikazu-san."

"It's nearly as pretty as mine," she boasted, showing off her crane-patterned kimono and silk obi.

I smiled at her indulgently. "I wish I looked as pretty as you when I was your age."

The younger girl blushed and rolled her eyes childishly. She held out something shiny. "Do you want a sweet? My father bought them from Osaka."

I accepted it happily. It was a Western-style hard candy wrapped in silver foil and when I put it in my mouth, I tasted sweet fruit on my tongue. A rare treat. I still remembered when Hanako let me try a small square of imported chocolate. I was so enamoured with the taste that I gushed about it to Toshikazu when I served him dinner. He grumbled something about the superiority of Japanese sweets that did nothing to dampen the enthusiasm I had for chocolate. I longed for the day when Hanako would receive another chocolate bar from her father but so far, she hasn't.

"It's very nice," I said sincerely. Hanako and I shared a satisfied smile with each other.

Our peace is disturbed by Hanako's mother, who exclaimed shrilly from inside the store. "Hanako-chan, what are you doing with that dirty girl?"

I took offence to that, since Ikeda-san was adamant about washing often and had given me a long lecture about using soap in my first week that I took to heart. I was also sure there was no dirt on my face at all.

"Do I smell like fish?" I whispered to Hanako.

"No," she replied. "But did you talk to Ryoichi-san today?"

She had a crush on him that I was too scared to talk her out of.

"Yes," I had enough time to say before her mother, Watanabe Keiko, stomped up to us.

"Sakamoto Chiyo," Keiko said severely, her nostrils flaring. "Why are you loitering here?"

"She was just talking to me, mother," Hanako piped up. She may be a little arrogant at times, but she would come to any friend's defence quickly.

"Go back inside, Hanako-chan," Keiko snapped. "You need to take care of your brother inside."

The younger girl shrugged at me helplessly before gliding back into the store.

"I watch you corrupt my gentle daughter with my own two eyes," Keiko said, balling her hands into fists. "I know what you are, Chiyo-chan. I don't approve of what old man Toshikazu is doing with you, taking in a runaway."

Somehow by my second visit into town, they already heard that I had turned down a marriage proposal and was allegedly chased out of the last town as a result. A few boys spread rumours about my apparent dalliances with other men that some of the townspeople took as the truth. I kept my head down and didn't acknowledge them but that somehow only made those stories last longer. At least Toshikazu had no idea, as he lived like a recluse. And no one would dare mention it to Ikeda-san's face. She was too well-respected. Hanako told me her father had been an honest merchant back in the day.

"Watanabe-san," I begun respectfully. "I like Hanako-chan and I would never try to influence her. I'm not a runaway. I still speak with my sister. Look at me- just another simple servant making an honest living."

"Simple? Honest?" Keiko took a step closer. "With those eyes? You make perfectly nice boys chase after you at the same time and you seem to take great pleasure from it. What is wrong with your generation of young women?"

I wanted to shout at her that the boys were the ones who followed me. Ryoichi, the mayor's son, the widowed mochi-maker and others. I didn't understand why Keiko couldn't see that I hated it. I was bony, threadbare and poor. My appeal came from how easily they could take advantage of me without consequence to them. I envied Hanako and her mother with their soft hands and tailored outfits. They would never have to handle the same unwanted attention that I did.

"Don't ask me," I said and turned on my heel. I walked away while the older woman sputtered behind me.

I kept sneaking looks at Toshikazu as I practiced my calligraphy with a composition assignment. It was a new skill that he was developing with me. Today, I was tasked with writing about my daily routine.

Eventually, he noticed and frowned at me. "Do not be so distracted."

"Toshikazu-san, can I ask you a question?"

"As long as it's a short one," he replied, looking meaningfully at his pocket watch, one of his few concessions to Western civilisation.

"Why do people spread gossip?"

"That is not a simple question," he said.

"But it is short."

"Alright," he said, tilting his head in thought. "It's in the nature of people to be curious about others around them. They actively collect and share information. If your neighbour is doing better than you, some easily jealous people would want know the reason. If your neighbour is struggling, some people take pleasure from watching it happen. Gossip is a fact of life as well as a form of social currency when you live in a community."

"But it's none of their business."

"Yes, it's not. Who are we to control human nature when we cannot even tame Nature itself?"

"I guess," I said, looking down at what I had written. People talk about me to my face. All lies.

The ensuing silence was broken by Toshikazu's own question. "Chiyo-chan, are you unhappy with something?"

"I..." I trailed off, not lifting my eyes from the paper. "I'm just tired of people."

"I see," he said. I scratched out the last sentence I wrote and instead handed in an inane list of chores I did around the house.

The next day, Ikeda-san said that I could take a week off to visit my sister, who was already five months pregnant. I sensed that Toshikazu had a hand in the housekeeper's uncharacteristic generosity- though it was uncharacteristic for him as well- but predicted that thanking him outright would only fluster us both.

"Oh, Chiyo-chan," my sister wrapped me in a warm embrace the moment I stepped into her home. I felt the large bump of her unborn child. Being with child was strange to me. How did a whole person fit inside a woman without tearing her skin apart? It also had to find a way to leave, which was the scary part. Then, as all sisters who change from sour to sweet from pregnancy will say, "You're even prettier than I remember."

"You look great, sister. I've missed you."

Satsu visibly glowed with happiness. It was a far cry from our past, when we worked multiple jobs to make ends meet in town after town. Now she had finally settled down, unafraid of being chased after and found by the brothel owner.

"You've been having three meals a day," she said, patting me on the cheek affectionately.

Though I was still slender from working every day, I had put on a little weight because of a winter diet of sweet potatoes and rice.

"And this kimono," Satsu admired it, running a hand over the fabric. "How generous of them. It goes well with your eyes and I'm glad you'll have something to keep you warm."

"We have been blessed with a lot of luck this year," I said, linking my arm with hers.

"It's to make up for all the rotten luck we had in the years before that," Sastu grinned. "Come inside! There's hot tea and your favourite mochi. Tell me about your lessons."

"Mother always said you would break many hearts when you grew up," my sister said after I recounted the awkward encounters I had with the boys and men of my new town. "That's why she asked me to keep an eye on you."

"I don't remember that."

"It was a long time ago," Satsu sighed wistfully.

"I wish mother and father could see you and their grandchild," I replied. "They would be pleased."

We sat in the kind of easy silence you learn to savour. I chewed my mochi while she sipped tea, hand on her bulging stomach.

"Is it painful?" I asked, glancing at it.

"It's so heavy," Satsu replied. "And it's only going to get worse. I'll be stuck in bed for the last month."

I'm not sure why human babies took so long to appear. Did the head appear before the body extended out of it? Or perhaps the parts grew separately and then fused together? Would Toshikazu know the answer if I asked?

"It's like planting a seed and waiting for it to grow," Satsu tried to explain when I asked.

I wasn't sure how the seed was planted in the first place, but knew better than to ask in case it worried Satsu. Under the blanket, I put a hand on my flat stomach, hidden under the kimono's layers. I couldn't imagine going through the same experience my sister and countless other women were. It was so far away.

I tried to picture any man as my husband but came up with nothing.

"Don't fret, sister," Satsu said, sensing the direction of my thoughts. "You'll have no trouble attracting someone good to you while you're still young and beautiful. It's every woman's destiny."

I nodded but didn't quite believe her.

It was a lively week.

Satsu's husband, Kenji, was nothing but sweet and doting. He even carried the pleasant fragrance of the tea leaves he worked with. We got along well and once more I thanked the gods for giving my sister such a good man. I had seen women with colourful bruises around their wrists and necks, with possibly more hidden under their yukatas, and easily guessed the source.

"Thanks for bringing the sweet potatoes, Chiyo-chan," Kenji said, using a knife to cut open the roasted sweet potato. A delicious smell wafted from the plate. "They're the best thing to eat in the winter."

"My sister likes them," I replied. Satsu was taking a nap behind the silk screen, so I took my chance to say. "You better take care of her. She's been through a lot and she's always wanted to have a happy family."

While Kenji had no idea that his wife was sold into prostitution when she was my age, they had met when he saw her crying at the side of the street because she couldn't pay the bill at the noodle shop. She was short one or two yen, and the owner had been unwilling to budge on the price. He had covered for her just 'for the privilege of seeing her smile'. I knew that story by heart since Satsu never shut up about it the first few months.

"You need not worry," Kenji said with a serious gleam in his eyes. Maybe I was a fool, but I truly believed him.

"I've bought you this," I said, handing him an envelope with a hundred yen that I had saved up from the past few months. "Since your funds may be low with Satsu out of work."

Kenji, a prideful man, shook his head and pushed aside the envelope. "Thank you, but we can manage."

Still feeling a little uneasy, I left the envelope in the back of my sister's set of drawers. She should be prepared, just in case there was an emergency with the child.

I spent the entire week cooking with my sister and cleaning the house together. I read the newspaper aloud to her and we talked about the future.

"I'll ask for leave when the baby is nearly due," I reassured her. "You'll need extra hands to take care of the child."

"You're going to be an amazing aunt," She replied, squeezing my hand.

"I hope you'll name it after me if it's a girl then. Baby Chiyoko."

"That's a lovely name."

"It feels like a dream," I said, moving my hand to her stomach. We were in a house that was well-heated in the winter, with drinkable tea and snacks, and a baby was kicking in my sister's stomach.

"I don't want to wake up," Satsu replied, clasping my hands again.

We sat there for a while, until my eyelids fell heavy and I slid sideways onto the mat. I closed my eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.

In the last month before the new year, I was able to move onto more advanced topics, especially after I asked Toshikazu if he knew the mysteries of childbirth.

"I may not be the best person to ask, but curiosity about the natural process is not unwelcomed," he had said, before giving me a thick medical volume. I skimmed the contents. Out of all the chapters, there was only a short piece about childcare and the female body.

"Was this written many years ago?"

"It was published when the last Emperor was still ruling."

"Surely advancements have been made since then."

"I do have more updated volumes, but female pregnancy is not a popular area of research for modern scientists."

"Why not? It's important, isn't it?"

"It is. Although such questions are encouraged, I am afraid that I cannot give a satisfying answer."

I thought about Satsu's childbirth plan. "Do midwives write books? They must know the answers."

"If they do, they are not distributed publicly. The midwife profession passes down their skills through oral methods."

And here I thought books contained all the knowledge in the world.

When I was older, I could finally appreciate how forward-thinking Toshikazu had been. If I had another teacher, they would never have let a girl read books used by medical students. Or they wouldn't be willing to take a girl as a student. In that aspect, he was the teacher I needed.

As the snow started to melt under the rays of the sun and green returned to the dried-out trees in the garden, my sister sent word that she was close to giving birth.

"The house will continue its daily business without you," Ikeda-san said when I showed her the telegram.

I gave her a concerned look. She had lost some weight during winter, despite my efforts in the kitchen, and her face was gaunt.

"I can leave when she does give birth. You don't have to look after Toshikazu-san alone."

"I can manage. I'm not completely invalid," she scoffed but then her gaze softened. "Do not be gone for long, girl."

"Yes, Ikeda-san. I'll bring you your favourite mochi."

"Go inform Toshikazu-san before he takes his afternoon nap."

"Thank you!" I bowed deeply. If it had been my previous workplace, I doubted Nakamura-san would let me go for even one day! She would rather fire me.

When I entered the library, Toshikazu had his eyes closed.

"Close the door, you're letting in a draft," he snapped without opening his eyes.

"Sorry, Toshikazu-san," I hastily slid the door shut, even though no breeze had followed me in.

His desk, normally clean with books stacked neatly one on top of the other, was covered in newspaper clippings.

"What is that?" I asked.

"Nosy as usual, I see," Toshikazu said, cracking an eye open.

A photograph of a young man in a silver frame caught my eye as I knelt beside the desk. He was dressed in an old-fashioned military uniform and his large dark eyes were solemn.

I had become overly familiar with my master because I couldn't restrain myself from picking up the frame and examining it closely. This man was dependable-looking with Toshikazu's elegant nose, broad shoulders and hard set to his mouth. What was he like now?

"Is this your son?" I guessed.

"Bah! He's a good-for-nothing now," he griped. "The first time in five years he's reached out to me and what does he want- to see how far I've fallen."

"I'm sure your son wishes the best for you."

"If the relationship between mother and daughter is a blade pointed either way, then the relationship between a father and his son is a rope. A constant tug of war."

He was fond of his analogies.

"Unless one side lets go, you are bound to each other."

"Hmm," Toshikazu cocked his head. "Nobu-kun does let go from time to time."

"Yet he finds it over and over again. And a rope does less damage than a blade."

"Your experiences taught you this."

"When I was little."

"Ah, I recall that your mother is no longer with you."

"Yes," I thought of the few memories I had left of my mother. The sad look in her grey-blue eyes. Her brittle body on the verge of death. I had no happy memories of her. If I did, they were buried deep inside my heart.

"He will be visiting in a week or two. You and Ikeda-san will be quite busy in those weeks."

Maybe this was a bad time to ask, but I did anyway.

"My sister is close to her labour stage. I am humbly requesting for a week to stay in her house and take care of her."

Toshikazu frowned deeply but said, "Take two."

"Are you certain? Ikeda-san needs my help."

"In your conversations with her, has she ever asked for help?"

I shook my head. The elderly woman was worryingly independent for her age, preferring to work on her own. Others in their twilight years may be gradually slowing down, leaving the work for the younger generation, but she insisted on doing household tasks without asking for my involvement. At least she never turned me down when I offered assistance.

"She's still capable of running the house," Toshikazu said with an air of finality, tidying the newspaper clippings on the desk. He swept them into a small box, but not before I saw that they were about some electric company. "She's as steady as a flowing river and as reliable as my pocket watch."

"Of course, Toshikazu-san. I did not mean to criticise her abilities."

"I know you didn't," the elderly man sighed heavily. I remembered the lesson he taught about thinking before I spoke. It didn't really stick. "You may leave tomorrow."

My nephew, a pinkish baby with fluffy dark hair, was born a few days after I arrived.

As I held him in my arms, I could feel the tears growing in my eyes. His fingers were so small and he couldn't even hold one of my fingers in one tiny hand.

I looked down at his peaceful face and thought: I'll protect you forever.

Satsu had a difficult labour so she was sleeping nearly all day, only waking to feed her newborn.

She hobbled out of the bedroom one day with a grimace and eyes that were rimmed with red. "I hurt all over. And I feel disgusting."

"Let me bathe you," I said and prepared some hot towels to wipe her body. I originally believed that a woman's stomach would shrink once the baby was born, but Satsu's was as round as an egg, like it had forgotten its initial shape.

"You should drink the tea," I offered her a cup of the tea made from herbs the midwife had bought. "It will calm your body."

Satsu turned her head to the left. "The smell is unbearable."

I sniffed the smoke rising from the cup. The scent was strong and bitter like a typical medicinal tea.

"I'll give you a moment."

I went inside the bedroom, where my nephew slept soundly in the wooden cradle Kenji had borrowed from his elder brother. He was unusually quiet, different from the babies in the previous households I worked in.

I knelt by the cradle, keeping a watchful eye on him until Satsu shuffled back in.

As though sensing his mother's presence from her heavy footsteps, the baby woke with a cry.

"Is it time to feed him already?"

"It's fine," Satsu mumbled, reaching into the cradle and picking up her son. She rocked him, humming an old lullaby.

My nephew cried harder until Satsu made her movements gentler.

I left the two alone to clear the table outside. Her tea was untouched.

Taking a sip of the cold tea, I wondered if I should be concerned. Aren't women supposed to be natural mothers? Why was my sister behaving so strangely?

Sadly I couldn't stay for long. A telegram from Ikeda-san informed me that Toshikazu's son was back and he needed an extra pair of hands to do the housework.

"I'll be back soon," I said to Satsu, who gave a grunt of assent. We were saying our farewells at the doorway of her house.

"Goodbye, little one," I said to the slumbering infant tucked in my sister's arms. "Grow strong."

"He's not a radish, Chiyo-chan," Satsu scoffed, pulling him closer to her and away from me.

"I was just being nice," I said, stung.

"Goodbye," Satsu said, already turned towards her son. "I'm tired."

This time I didn't race back to the house, opting to walk slowly instead. I felt inexplicably tired, even though I had spent a few hours sitting on the train, watching the rice fields and ramshackle shacks fly by.

Still, I picked up the pace as I was on the last stretch of road. It was already past three when I disembarked and Ikeda-san must be preparing a meal service for Toshikazu's guests. She would need my help in the kitchen.

"You're just in time for tea," Ikeda-san said in lieu of a greeting as I entered the kitchen and bowed to her. "They're in want of a second pot."

"Let me catch my breath first," I said jokingly, placing my travel bag on the floor. The older woman glared at my words.

I walked over to the counter, where Ikeda-san had laid out the dishes for the tray. There were the ceramic plates with intricate carvings that I polished twice a week, finally put to use.

Ikeda-san still hadn't taken her eyes off my face. She seemed to be taking my measure.

"What is it?" I said, putting a hand up to my cheek. I hadn't had a chance to check and my sister's house didn't have a mirror but knew that I wasn't much to look at right now. With a few hours of sleep each night at best, there were probably dark circles under my eyes and dry patches on my face. I smelled like sweat from the road. "Am I not presentable?"

"Not in these rags," she said, referring to the yukata I wore in the summer.

I wrinkled my nose. Yes, the dark blue floral print was faded and it was a hand-me-down from my sister that had seen better days, but it was a perfectly acceptable outfit for any servant to wear.

"They're not rags," I retorted, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"You still have that habit of talking back," Ikeda-san sighed, like I had disappointed her. "Impertinent child."

"I apologise," I replied, chastised. "It has been a long journey."

"Perhaps I had been harsh to refer to your clothing as rags," she sniffed. "Yet, I will not have you serving Toshikazu-san's son and friend in your current state."

I looked at her again. She was impeccably dressed as usual in an austere blue kimono but there was something flashier about her. My eyes went to the two silver hairpins in her hair. No wonder she wanted me to dress up.

"Go and wash first," she muttered, picking up the tray herself. "Quickly now."

I nearly tripped over my feet in my haste to obey.

Ikeda-san found me a kimono while I bathed. I snuck many looks at the folded piece on my sleeping mat as I hurriedly wrung my hair dry.

When I unfolded it, I saw that pink fabric had a sheen to it and faded into light blue towards the hem. It looked as expensive and well-made as the kimonos I had seen on the streets of Gion, back when I was working in the okiya. I don't think I had ever worn anything so fine in my life. If I had dreamed of becoming a geisha, this kimono would be part of it.

"I can't wear this," I told Ikeda-san, even as she tied a silk brocade obi around my waist with practiced efficiency. I was putting on airs and graces that were unseemly for a servant. "Isn't this yours? How did you come across something like this?"

"It belonged to my family," she gave a vague answer.

"It's too grand for someone like me to serve dinner in."

"The alternative is far worse," Ikeda-san said without sympathy, tightening the obi. It was odd to have someone older than me help me get dressed.

"Are you sure I have to serve dinner?" I looked at her hopefully. "I'd prefer staying in the kitchen."

Ikeda-san pursed her lips as though she had just sucked on a sour lemon slice. "You have to do as I say, considering how the smell of cooking lingers on my robes. Let me do something about that hair of yours."

As she fussed with my hair, I caught a whiff of her scent. She smelled fine to me, like the oil she used to soothe her aching joints and a bit of toasted rice.

"There we go," Ikeda-san tucked a dainty little hairpin into my coiffed hair. "All done."

"How do I look?" I asked, about to raise a hand to pat my new hairstyle. It was more intricate than the child-like braid I normally sported.

Ikeda-san wordlessly held up a mirror in front of me. I didn't even know she had one, much less one with a silver handle.

It was only a small frame but I could just about make out my face. I barely recognised my own features. Who was this girl with sharp, angular cheekbones and up-turned nose? Her eyes, the colour of molten silver in the lighting, shone even brighter against the petal-pink kimono. I had transformed into someone else.

"Alright, off you go," Ikeda-san said, stowing the mirror away. As always, shows of vanity disgusted her. "Dinner won't serve itself."

I timidly slid open the door to the dining space. The sounds of conversation came to a halt.

"Excuse me," I said softly, my eyes lowered to the floor.

I gave the shallowest of bows as I entered, concentrating on not dropping the tray.

None of the men acknowledged me so I knelt next to the table and served everything as quickly as possible. Ikeda-san had cooked up generous servings of rice and tempura, and the bowls were hot and heavy to handle elegantly.

"You forgot the sake, Chiyo-chan," Toshikazu chided.

The sake! I recalled the white jug sitting on the kitchen table that I decided not to bring with me. The extra weight would've imbalanced the tray.

I opened my mouth to explain to Toshikazu that I only had two hands and they were already full when I carried the heavy tray to this room. Then, thinking better of it, I closed it and looked up.

It was the first time I had seen the two other men he was with.

One was perhaps in his early forties, with a touch of grey at his temples. He bore a slim resemblance to my brother-in-law, Kenji, if he had a liking for Western suits. The other was the one who held my attention. I couldn't help the widening of my eyes as I took in the awful scarring on one side of his face. I had never seen such facial disfiguration in my life, and I had worked with an older man who had lost part of his nose from a factory accident.

The scarred man already had a black look on his face and it darkened further as his eyes met mine. I quickly averted my gaze.

That was a mistake as I instantly locked eyes with the other guest. He had a look of detached puzzlement, likely wondering why I was still standing in front of the the three of them.

"I apologise," I bowed, trying to control the blush that threatened to rise to my cheeks. "I will fetch it at once, Toshikazu-sama."

Toshikazu made a waving gesture at me and I straightened, clutching the tray to my chest as I backed out of the room.

"Sit and pour," my master said to me as soon as I reentered with the jug and three cups.

The sleeves of the kimono were quite long and, as inelegant the motion was, I had to hike my sleeve up subtly to pour the drink. Doing so exposed my wrist and part of my forearm, though I was too busy focusing on not spilling the sake to notice the two strangers staring at my bare skin.

"There," I said proudly, placing a cup in front of each person. Not a single spill.

As I gathered the heavy skirt of my kimono to let them enjoy their meal in private, Toshikazu said, "Why don't you stay for dinner?"

"If you believe the presence of a young girl would cheer us up, father, then you are mistaken."

It was the scarred man who spoke, sounding annoyed.

Toshikazu was his father? This man was Nobu, the owner of the first book I read?

Toshikazu scoffed. "I expect your rotten mood cannot be improved by any woman, no matter how attractive they are. Chiyo-chan is still happy to be included in this conversation, aren't you?"

I nodded mutely, too dazed to decline and still trying to reconcile the young man in the photograph with this figure before me, whose skin reminded me of a roasted sweet potato. His left sleeve was held up by a silver pin, hinting at a missing arm. Not only disfigured, but also crippled. Fate had dealt Toshikazu a bad hand.

"Nobu-san does speak the truth. Besides, it would no doubt be unfair to your servant if she joins us with no meal or drink to sate her hunger."

"She can have mine," Toshikazu said dismissively. "My appetite's not what it was these days."

"I couldn't possibly impose," I tried to be polite about it, suddenly realising how much I wanted to retreat to the kitchen.

"Nonsense," he retorted, pushing the plate of tempura and bowl of rice in my direction. "You will stay."

Then, to my horror, he stood and left the room without excusing himself.

Alone with the two strangers, I wasn't sure what to do besides introduce myself.

"My name is Sakamoto Chiyo," I said, my hands folded in my lap to keep them from trembling. "I work for Toshikazu-sama."

"I am Iwamura Ken and this is Nobu," the unscarred man replied. He was the friendlier one, I thought. "We work together."

"An entertainer disguised as a serving girl," Nobu said. He had a curt manner of speaking and he did a poor job of hiding his contempt. "Where did my father find you, the local den of iniquity?"

A frown appeared on my face before I could do anything to calm my expression.

"Though you do not have the ghostly-white pallor of a geisha," Nobu continued. "And I definitely do not send my father the money to have one at his beck and call. My accountant would complain."

Was he drunk already? That would explain his blunt words.

"I am humbled to be in your presence," I said with a polite smile.

"And I shall suffer to be in yours," Nobu replied.

"Be gentle with the girl," Iwamura said.

None of us had touched the dinner yet, still waiting for the return of our oldest guest.

"Nobu-san has a sharp tongue," I said, feeling brave. "Perhaps a cup of sake will soften it."

"Hmph," the man raised an eyebrow on the unscarred side of his face. He turned away from us to drink. Iwamura and I did the same.

It was the first time I had drunk any alcohol since my sister's wedding ceremony and I did not like it.

"If I may ask, Iwamura-san, how do you know Toshikazu-sama's son?"

"We're business partners," Iwamura replied and launched into a detailed explanation of how their relationship came to be. I acted impressed at the right points, where Iwamura admitted how important Nobu had been to the survival of the company. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the man being the subject of Iwamura's praise roll his eyes and shovel more rice into his mouth.

Toshikazu still hadn't returned when he finished so, to keep the conversation going, I said, "I wish I had a friend as loyal as Nobu-san. That must be something very rare in the world of business."

That got Nobu's attention and he snorted. "What does a servant know of business?"

Feeling a little irritated, I finally looked him dead in the eye and replied, with a cool smile reminiscent of Ikeda-san's, "Your world is not as foreign to a humble servant as you wish to believe. The importance of loyalty surpasses business. You don't survive long in a household without a loyal friend at your side."

"You neither speak humbly nor simper like a servant," Nobu replied, with a quick glance at Iwamura. The other man was in the process of eating a fried mushroom delicately. He looked far too amused with the whole exchange.

"I'll admit that my youth is a disadvantage in these circles, though this is one all men must overcome at one point in their lives."

"Bah!" Nobu scoffed, sounding eerily similar to his father. "I have no idea how and why my father, a traditionalist who would rather eat his slippers than bear the brunt of a youth's disrespect, would keep you on as a servant."

"Your father may have changed since your last meeting," I retorted. "In some areas, he is less of a relic. And I would let you know-" I spear him with the best glare I had, even if it likely did nothing to dissuade him of my disrespectfulness. "-that I am an excellent servant."

"Yet he invites you to eat at his food at his table. Excellent servants would never dare intrude on their master's dinner."

"With his honoured guests, I know," I said, dangerously close to snapping. "Why not dismiss me outright if you find me so unworthy of sharing a table, Nobu-san?"

"Don't think I won't, if you are what passes for dinnertime entertainment in his household."

"If I have offended Nobu-san, then I'll gladly dismiss myself, to save him the trouble."

Snob, I thought as we glared at each other. In my growing outrage, the melted half of his face no longer frightened me. I could look past those scars to dislike the rude man underneath.

"You speak very casually, Chiyo-chan," Iwamura spoke up. I could tell that he meant it as a warning. You could cut the tension between Nobu and I with a knife. "We would hate to be bereft of your company."

I exhaled deeply, calming myself.

"Where is your father?" I asked Nobu, choosing to change the subject.

Nobu blinked, as though not anticipating the question. "He's been away for a while."

"Are you worried?"

"There's nothing to worry about. He's a man who has spent half his life in the four rooms of this little house."

"I'll check on him."

"Ikeda-san would alert us should anything have happened to him."

"My worries are not misplaced," I said, a little too sharply for a servant, but I supposed I was past endearing myself to these two men in that regard. "Please excuse me."

The weight of the kimono seemed to drag me down so I had to find my balance. It was not a dignified movement, though I congratulated myself for not falling over.

"I'll come with you," Nobu said abruptly.

I wanted to tell him that it won't be necessary since there were really only three rooms to search, outside of the dining room, but it was inappropriate to give my superiors instructions. The way I had spoken to him would have warranted a dismissal in previous households.

"I'll await your speedy return," Iwamura said, pouring a cup of sake for himself. Again, he seemed more amused than the situation required. "I would hate to finish this jar on my own."

When Nobu stood, he was tall compared to Toshikazu and at least one head taller than me. I tried not to be intimidated by his size as we walked down the hallway to the central courtyard.

I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted into the dark. "Toshikazu-san!"

Nobu looked at me. I lowered my hands and mumbled that it was usually enough to summon my master from wherever he was. In response, he rolled his eyes in a childish manner.

We turned towards a sudden noise in unison, but it was only Ikeda-san, shuffling down the steps with a lit candle in a saucer.

"I was about to let you know that Toshikazu-san is feeling unwell. He apologises for missing the rest of dinner and will join you for breakfast tomorrow."

"Is he alright?" Nobu asked, concern colouring the angry tone he had been using so far. "Was a sip of sake finally the end of him?"

That was more like him, I glared at the back of his head. Ikeda-san caught my less-than-subservient look and one of her eyes twitched.

"Should I check on him?" I took a step forward.

"He doesn't want any of you to worry. I'll look after him. Enjoy the rest of your night, Nobu-san," the elderly woman bowed deeply.

"Thank you," Nobu said with a bow as well.

We stood side by side, watching her leave the courtyard in an unhurried gait.

"We'd better head back," Nobu said once she had departed.

"Yes," I replied, but I wasn't looking at him- my eyes were on the sky above us.

I don't know what overcame me at that moment. It didn't look like an ordinary piece of sky. Maybe it was the feeling of being apart from my sister and nephew, with his future so uncertain. Maybe it was genuine appreciation for the natural beauty above me and how the stars were just out of my reach.

"Look," I whispered, trying to include the man next to me.

Nobu cleared his throat.

"I apologise," he was staring at me. "The view is very distracting tonight."

"Indeed," he replied curtly and looked away.

I glared at his retreating back. What was his problem?

AUTHOR'S NOTE

This is just way too long. Couldn't even tag the characters. Going insane about them! Hope the fandom isn't dead. Will try to write chapter 3 soon.