Her mother certainly didn’t care for him.

But she hates them all anyway, Sakura thought. Always so suspicious, thinking the worst of any man that comes within a league of me or Yoko.

It was a miracle she had become a performer in the Ikaima Dancing Fans, but Yukio had known Umo for a long time before that, and he had promised he would look out for her. At least, that’s what Sakura thought. She never knew for certain.

Oh poor Umo.

The old troupe master didn’t deserve to die, not like that. Just then Kaiya put an arm around her as they walked, the rest of the group ahead and behind them. The ground was rough because they stayed off the roads, kept to the forest as they skirted the hills, making their way to the Western Temple.

“Thinking about Umo?” she asked.

She nodded. “How did you know?”

“Me too. I can see it on your face.”

“I just can’t believe it, Kaiya.”

“I know. I know.” They walked for a time in silence. The day was so hot Sakura wanted to disrobe, but of course she could not. But her heavy kimono for last night’s performance was too warm for such a day. She needed something lighter.

“Did I ever tell you that story when Umo slipped during the middle of a performance?” Kaiya asked, a note of cheer in her voice. Her cheeks were pink from the hiking. She was so beautiful. More so than Sakura ever could be. Even her hair looked good right now, despite everything.

“No, I’ve never heard about it,” she said.

“Well, you know how he hated in when anyone ate backstage?”

“Yes,” Sakura said, remembering one time when he had barked at her to leave because he caught her with a bowl of rice. Rice! As if that ever made a mess.

“One day,” she said impressing upon Sakura a severity with an emphasis on the words, “Hotoka—do you remember Hotoka? No, I don’t think you were with us then. Anyway, one day Hotoka was eating a bowl of soba noodles between shows—this was when Umo still performed a thousand years ago.”

They both laughed. “I never saw him perform, but I had heard that he used to.”

“It was just before you joined. In fact, the reason he asked that you join was to fill a vacancy. Don’t you remember that it was supposed to be for only one performance?”

“I do.”

“We’re getting side tracked.”

“Arigatou,” she said in apology.

“Hotoka was eating soba, and he dropped his bowl in the middle of the stage. On the main stage right before a showing!”

“What?!” Sakura was shocked. “What happened next? Did it get cleaned up?”

“No, because he had run onto the main stage while the curtain was drown to get his kimono just before it was to begin.”

‘Oh no…”

“Oh yes!”

“So what happened?”

“Well, we went out to perform! What do you think happened?”

“Umo slipped.”

Kaiya laughed. “Yes, but before that, half of us had to dodge or move around that bowl in the middle of the performance. Numi had tried to warn Umo because he hadn’t seen, but what can you do in the middle of the dance? Not only did he slip, right there at the beginning, but he kept glaring at Hotoka every chance he got whenever the audience couldn’t see!”

Sakura couldn’t help but laugh. They laughed together, getting strange stares from the people around them. They were probably wondering how Sakurai and Kaiya could be so uplifted during such a crisis, when their Emperor and the royal family were on the run, when an enemy was in the capital, killing people and burning buildings.

Sakura’s own kimono was covered in dried blood.

She knew what Kaiya was doing. And Sakura let her do it. She could be so bossy and annoying at times, but she really was the best friend she had ever had.

“Thank you, Kaiya.”

The other young dancer rubbed her shoulder and smiled. “You know, Umo was a surly old samurai. It was a good way to go.”

Sakura didn’t understand.

“In service to one’s friends and Emperor,” Kaiya said. “Umo would never let anything happen to any of us if he could help it, but especially you. I think he and your mother Yukio were old friends, weren’t they?”

“Yes.”

Kaiya nodded, and they fell silent for a few moments. Finally, she said, “It was Hotoka’s place you filled. Did you know that, little flower? All because of a bowl of hot soba.”

She always called Sakura that. Little flower. She didn’t know if it was simply a play on her name that Kaiya liked to use, or if she thought of herself like Sakura’s older sister. Maybe it’s a little of both. “Are you teasing me, now?”

Kaiya tapped her on the shoulder warningly. “Look out.”

Sakura glanced about. “What is it?”

Kaiya’s eyes widened as she hissed, “Don’t act like that, silly girl. Gods, he’s coming over here!”

She instantly spotted him as he made his way past the line of people going the opposite direction. “Oh.”

“That’s right,” Kaiya said, then licked her thumb before applying it to Sakura’s face to wipe a smudge. “Now don’t get stupid.”

Sakura turned to address Kaiya, who was quickly falling back behind her. “Stupid?”

But Kaiya didn’t answer as she quickly busied herself with another person, making some outrageously empty conversation which sounded only half plausible.

“Are you all right, Nakamura-san?”

“I’m fine!”

Why is my heart dancing?

“You seem somewhat flustered.”

“I’m not flustered,” she said. “So what is it you wanted?”—Idiot—“I mean, I was—I mean is there something you would like to talk to me about?”

“I just wanted to know if you would like something else to wear?”

What?!

“To wear?”

He shrugged and gestured toward her kimono. “It’s a bit hot for that, and it’s covered in blood. I just thought you might like something else to wear.”

There was something in his hands. It was a folded kimono. She felt like such a fool. Why was she acting so silly? She hadn’t felt this way before. She tried to glance about surreptitiously.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I suppose I am a bit bothered.” She gestured with her hand, indicating everything that had happened since last night.

“I understand.”

He was walking beside her now. He gestured for her to take the kimono. It was black silk and very fancy. “This is very thoughtful of you. Where did you get it?”

“It belongs—well, belonged to one of the refugee women,” he said. “She found herself carrying far too many items than she or her husband could haul, so I bought it off her.”

“Off her?”

“Umm, well it’s a figure of speech,” he said, sounding slightly embarrassed. “Bad interpretation?”

That’s right, she thought. This isn’t his mother language.

She had almost forgotten his accent. “A little,” she said, chuckling.

He laughed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s quite all right,” she said. “So, you bought it from her?”

“She was making a bit of a fuss about having to leave things behind,” he said, shrugging, “so I offered to lessen her sense of loss.

“That was very kind of you to do that for her.”

“I didn’t do it for her.”

They looked at one another, their gazes lingering for just a little too long. Now Sakura felt extremely nervous. She wasn’t used to talking to men who had an interest in her.

He’s interested, isn’t he?

What made this difficult was that she couldn’t deny her interest in him either. It was so… Her mother would not be pleased.

“Gods…”

“What’s that?”

“Sorry, nothing,” she said hastily. “These rocks! I keep tripping!”

“You don’t have the proper shoes,” he said. “Your sandals keep falling off.”

“I know.”

“We’ll get you something better to wear when we get to the temple.”

“Thank you,” she said. “You haven’t spent all your money on this, I presume?” She gestured to the kimono.

His mouth quirked into a wry smile of amusement. “Not quite all of it,” he said, emphasizing the words, which made her laugh. She didn’t know why, but anything he said that was meant to be funny, she wanted to laugh at right now.

“So, Kazu-wikku-san—I’m sorry, did I say your name wrong?”

“No, no,” he said quickly. “Quite right.”

She could see his bemusement at her pronunciation of his foreign name. “It’s my accent on your name?”

“It’s a little hard to get used to is all.”

“I see.”

Suddenly he moved ahead of her, jumped up a cleft in the hill. He turned and offered the woman in front of them a hand. She was elderly and needed the assistance. She took his hand, but they were having trouble, so Sakura assisted from below until the woman was up. She was healthy and a good walker, keeping up with them, but the incline—

This incline is steep!

She found the mage’s hand thrust in front of her. “Take my hand.”

“Thank you.” She took his hand and he hauled her up with ease. Perhaps a little too easily, because he slipped, and they both yelped as he fell on his back, she on top of him.

“This seems to be happening a lot.”

“Oh gods! I’m so”—she moved to get off of him—“I’m so sorry.” She got up hastily, brushing dried grass and thistles off her blood-stained kimono.

“It’s quite all right,” he said, getting up with a grunt. He glanced below the cleft to see a man and woman staring at them, their three kids watching. The parents had evident disapproval on their faces.

He bent down, quite hastily, to pick up the black kimono. He brushed it off and handed it to her. She took it and he took a step back, clearly creating more distance between them.

He must think I’m loose! Gods, I can’t believe this.

“I really am sorry.”

“It’s my fault entirely,” he said, gesturing emphatically. He turned to the family. “Come, let me help you up.” He did so under the watchful gazes of both the mother and father. They both glanced at her, their eyes disapproving.

She felt so embarrassed. She was probably as red as an apple. So stupid. She was only thankful her parents hadn’t seen that. The first time was bad enough, but there really was no other way in the limited amount of time she had. He was dying, after all and there was no room to get around him with Tomii and father holding him down on either side!

She wanted to scream, stamp and slap herself like the idiot she was. Where’s Kaiya? Did she see this?

She looked about, but saw the other woman nowhere in sight among the people hiking. Some of them were wearing luxury garments, clearly rich or highborn. They had been at the performance. They recognized her, but paid her little head. They were all afraid for what would or could happen next.

“So,” he said, gesturing to the trail and the line of people, “what was it you wanted to ask me?”

He was pretending like their little ordeal just now hadn’t happened. She was grateful. What was it they called this in the west? Chivalry or something? Yes, Sakura had heard of it before. She quite liked this chivalry, though she didn’t quite understand it completely.

“Yes,” she said, “deciding to play along. “Yes there was, that is if you don’t mind?”

The mage glanced toward the trail, stepped over a fallen bough, long dead after breaking from the tree overhead. At least there was plenty of shade, but it was very, very hot.

“Of course,” he said. “Please ask.”