Satori quietly closes the door behind her.

“And where were you?” Her mother stands before the doorway, arms crossed and face stormy.

“I-I was in the garden!”

“Do not lie to me, young lady! Where were you?”

Hanging her head, Satori mumbles, “With Sakanoue-san.”

“And why were you at the dojo?”

“Watching—”

Her mother drags her inside, grip bruising.

“Ouch!” Satori squeals. “You’re hurting me! Stop it!”

“Your brother and father are out on important business. We are to keep low profiles. You could learn to cook or host a tea ceremony. Yet you keep going out every day! If your father knew you went to the dojo again, he really might kill you! Have you no shame? You’re a girl, so start acting like one!”

Her mother’s shrieks always did get worse when her father left with Ryo to visit the Blackwoods. There’s a static storm in her ears, as dissonant as the cicadas’ shouting match with the bees outside her windows every afternoon. She used to cry herself to sleep listening to that silver storm.

She loves her mother. She really does. She loves her brother too. He’s innocent.

“What if your father’s colleagues dropped by?” her mother continues, voice equal parts scared and furious. “Don’t you realize it’ll be suspicious? If they find out, that’s the end of the line. For us, your father, and Ryo! They’ll have us all killed!”

“I’m sorry,” she replies automatically.

Her mother plops her onto a chair. “If you’re sorry, you’ll stop thinking only about yourself.”

Grimacing, Satori rolls up her sleeves and helps her mother wash the soybeans. There is a glorious silence for some time and she savours it like rare honey.

“It is good that you have spirit,” her mother starts, quietly, “but you are not a boy. You must know when you can and cannot show it.”

“Mm.”

“You were the one who pierced the target that day. You’ve been taking all the classes meant for Ryo and Sakanoue-san is covering for you.”

Satori stills.

“How long?” her mother asks.

The water runs as her mother gives the soybeans one last wash.

“...Since the beginning.” Satori swallows. “Ryo never took a single class.”

Her mother nods, eyebrows lifting in surprise for only a moment. “I see. I will talk to Sakanoue-san tomorrow. We have to fix this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll have Sakanoue-san ban you.”

Panic races up Satori’s spine and through her throat at the threat of losing the only place she can breathe. “Mom, why are you so scared all the time?” she blurts.

SLAP!

Her mother’s thin trembling hand is all she can see. Day after day, bit by bit, it becomes difficult for Satori to tell if it is her mother or her father at home. Some days, there seems to be no difference. But of course, if it was her father, she’d be choking by now, feet dangling desperately in the air. Only her mother knew how to kill her heart.

“You’re not scared enough,” her mother hisses. “You should be scared. You should be terrified. Maybe then, you’ll be less selfish and more kind.”

Instead, Satori is angry. She pushes herself onto her feet.

“Satori! Get back here!”

She runs and she runs and she runs. And she hopes a samurai will come knocking on the door asking where her father really is. And if she is really lucky, they will already know.

So that they can bring the blade of judgment down upon their wretched lives of no value.

It is evening by the time Satori is calm again. Sakanoue-san is like a grandfather to her, his home always warm and inviting in ways her own home is not. 

She sips the fish soup.

“Satori-chan,” the old man starts, “your mother must be worried. You should go home and apologize.”

She doesn’t have it in her to explain that all of her mother’s warmth to her stems from a deep fear of others. Of her own father, in fact. It leaves a strong bitter aftertaste that overpowers the soup in her mouth.

“I’ll walk you home.”

Satori shakes her head.

Sakanoue-san sighs.

Looking up at the night sky, at the millions of stars above, she feels at ease more than she ever does in her own room. It reminds her of how insignificant she is— of how they all are. In the grand gist of things, it doesn’t matter that she is a girl who does boy things and likes it. It doesn’t matter that Ryo gets all of their mother’s love when she is the one that takes beatings for her mother. It doesn’t matter that her father abuses her in a twisted display of love. In a world where she does not exist, the world would still go on just fine.

And it makes her relieved that she has no presence, no significance, no attachment.

“Here,” Sakanoue-san says, handing her a cloth. “You’ve been crying for some time now.”

She takes it, lips trembling. She usually controls it better.

“Satori-chan, do you want to talk to me about anything?”

She shakes her head.

The old man sighs. “Well, you’re free to stay the night, but first thing tomorrow morning, you should go home.”

She nods.

Sakanoue-san’s hand is big and warm when he ruffles her hair. “Your spirit is what makes you beautiful, Satori-chan. No matter what anybody tells you, know that you have truth, goodness, and beauty within you.”

Only after the sliding door closes behind Sakanoue-san does the first tear roll down her cheek.

Above her, a shooting star streaks across the sky.

I wish…

Her thoughts fizz out like the dying embers of a spark, too afraid to hear the dark desire she already knows is there.

The morning is bright and calm as Satori walks the dirt-trodden roads back to her house. Sakanoue-san holds her hand.

“Satori-chan, your house is around the corner. Are you ready?”

She nods. “Thank you,” she whispers.

Sakanoue-san’s grip tightens ever so slightly.

“...husband isn’t here.”

“You don’t happen to know where he is?”

Unfamiliar voices inside stop them both in their tracks. Sakanoue-san’s eyebrows raise in alarm and he turns, a questioning look on his face.

Satori shakes her head, confused gaze directed back.

Sakanoue-san licks his finger before rubbing a small patch on the rice paper screen windows. Satori stands on her tippy-toes and together, they peer in: hazy figures of her mother sitting at the table with a samurai and another jittemochi.

“What do they want with your mother?” Sakanoue-san whispers. “Do you know anything, Satori-chan?”

She knows why they’re here and she knows she can’t tell Sakanoue-san anything, if only to protect him.

“My husband took time off from work,” her mother says, a pleasant smile on her face.

“Yes, we had it approved,” the samurai donning his armor confirms, nodding. “The issue is why he took time off of work and where he is now.”

“I-I’m not sure I follow?”

“Mrs. Otani, where is your husband now?”

“Nagasaki—”

“He was there a few weeks ago, yes. But where is he now?”

Her mother’s shoulders droop, gaze falling. Satori’s fists clench at the sight of her mother’s pathetic expression: a face waiting and waiting for somebody to save her…usually from her husband’s fits of anger.

“He’s in Nagasaki,” her mother whimpers. “I don’t know where else he could be!”

“You understand that foreigners cannot set foot in our nation. But do you understand that you cannot set foot outside our nation? Do you understand that your husband’s sins are yours to bear as well? And your children—”

Sakanoue-san tugs Satori along to the front entrance and knocks on the door.

“One moment!” her mother’s voice exclaims.

“Sakanoue-san,” Satori starts.

The old man gestures for her to be quiet. “Trust me, Satori-chan.” The door opens.

“Satori!” Her mother embraces her, whispering into her ear, “Thank goodness you’re home…”

She can’t help it. She wants to believe her mother’s concern is genuine, but too many times she’s seen her mother’s true face: relieved, because Satori is home to deal with the bad men in her stead. And Satori knows she would, every single time.

As if to prove her right, her mother looks up to Sakanoue-san, saying, “Thank you for bringing her back safely. It’s a good thing she stayed at your place and came home before things escalated…” she trails off, “Sorry for the inconvenience.”

“None taken,” Sakanoue-san says, taken aback at her words. The old man’s eyes glitter with half-understanding pity and Satori meets them with her own resigned expression.

“Who’s this?” the samurai asks, swaggering out with a look of contempt.

“M-My daughter.” Her mother pushes her forwards. “Be respectful, Satori.”

Satori dips her head and lowers her gaze as is expected of her. She swallows a lump in her throat before she greets the officers in her home.

“I couldn’t help but overhear,” Sakanoue-san starts, feigning ignorance, “You seemed to be talking about Mr. Otani.”

“We were,” the samurai grunts. “Know where he is now?”

“Nagasaki,” Sakanoue-san replies immediately. “I’m sorry, this old man might have caused some confusion here. You see, I asked Mr. Otani to deliver some toys I bought from the merchants here to my nephews and nieces in Nagasaki…” He rubs his hands together, laughing awkwardly. “And the others at the dojo I run overheard, so they also asked him to visit their families who lived in various cities on the way to deliver trinkets and food. Apologies, sir, it seems our requests may have caused some trouble, ahahaha…”

 The jittemochi accompanying the samurai clears his throat. “So you’re telling me he could be in any of those cities by now? Constantly on the move?”

“Ahahaha, yes, yes,” Sakanoue-san says, scratching his head sheepishly. He bows again. “Sorry for the confusion. It’s a little lonely when you get old and all the young ones have their own nests…and they always forget to visit, ahahaha…”

The samurai sighs, annoyance visible even to Satori’s five-year-old eyes. “I guess we can let this one slide this time. Next time, if you need favors like that, be sure to clear it with the authorities first. Documentation comes first and foremost!”

“Yes, my Lord, thank you. We’ll be sure to follow procedures next time, ahaha!”

With that, the officers leave the house and the three of them behind.

Her mother bows, profusely thanking Sakanoue-san. Satori follows suit.

“Not a problem,” he replies, waving it off. “But truly, are you in any trouble?”

Satori shares a glance with her mother before they both deny it.

Looking back and forth between them, Sakanoue-san purses his lips. “All right. Well, if nothing’s the matter, I’ll be off—”

“One moment,” Satori’s mother interrupts. “I need to talk to you about Satori’s involvement with your dojo.”

The old man’s bushy eyebrows raise once more, shock coloring his features. He glances down at Satori and she can only keep a straight face as her heart sinks. Her body lethargic, she turns to go inside, already knowing the outcome.

I’d rather not hear it.

Her mother talks with Sakanoue-san for another good half-hour before she hears the front door close.

“You ran away.”

It’s not accusing. It’s not angry. It’s not sad.

“You left me.”

Her mother’s voice is steady and cold in the warmest of ways.

“You don’t understand now,” her mother continues, grabbing something from the storage room, “but you will thank me for it in the future.”

Satori turns to see what it is, only for horror to seep through her expression.

Her mother holds her yumi bow in her thin hands.

“No, Mom, don’t—”

Hands once delicate twist and bulge with boundless strength, pressing down on the back of the bow until its arc flattens and cracks, until it bends backwards with a loud and clear snap.

“NO!” Satori screams, scrambling forwards and falling on her face. The sight of the broken bow makes her dizzy and memories of the first time Sakanoue-san gave it to her flash past her eyes. “NO! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! WHY DID YOU DO THAT?”

Her mother tosses the broken bow aside, running to cradle Satori in her arms. “It hurts me too, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Satori. I love you, please don’t forget it’s for your own good…”

Satori can only scream. All the hot tears she never cried are finally, finally shed. There, in the fullness of her mother’s loving embrace, her body is not cold anymore.

Her body burns with the rebirthing flame of despair.