Page 22 of The Tainted and the Tamed
“You didn’t care for the air in the cities we traveled through any more than I did,” Daisuke grumbled.
Haruki crossed his arms. “If we came to such an agreement, it would be dangerously close to what I’ve just cautioned you against. That would be a full-blown alliance across factions.” He shook his head. “These angry letters I receive from the other chairmen—I’ve no reason to think the Diet is any less a powder keg than it was a decade ago.”
“Enough politics for now,” Junpei said, lifting a palm. “Haru, you know we didn’t come here simply to tell you this. Your letter was—”
“Overly cryptic,” Daisuke supplied. “We didn’t know whether you’d made a union of your own or killed someone.”
Haruki dipped his head. “It was as cryptic as it needed to be.” He swallowed, pained to admit it aloud. “It was the latter. I drained a young woman I took as my lover—one I never should have been with in the first place. I was stupid and weak, and drunk, at first—but not the other times. I tried to give her some of my blood—”
“Haru,” Junpei chided in his soft voice. “You know those are not the details we need.”
Haruki turned his head to look away. “I placed her body under rocks, at the bottom of the ravine, and left a brick in her mouth, so she would not rise.” Haruki’s shoulders began to shake as the shameful tears rose to his eyes. “What have I done? I took her life—but what if I’ve done even worse than that? What if she’s a wraith?”
He heard a sigh of silk garments, but could not look up. Haruki kept his face hidden by his hand. Suddenly, he realized Daisuke was crouched beside him, his hands reaching out.
Daisuke extended his arms, resting his hands on Haruki’s shoulders. “What was her name?” he asked, his voice so quiet Haruki hardly recognized it as his.
“Chiyo.” Saying it only made Haruki’s eyes water more.
“We’ll make sure she rests,” Daisuke said, surprising him with the gentleness of his manner. He hadn’t thought brash, angry Daisuke capable of that.
And that he would show such mercy tohim,his opponent in so many ways—his enemy, during the revolution.
It was all Haruki could do to tamp down his tears.
Daisuke kept his hands on Haruki’s shoulders until the wracking tears stopped. When they finally ebbed, Haruki left to wipe his face. Upon his return, he found both men standing.
“It’s late enough, now, Haru,” said Junpei. “Lead us down to the ravine.”
Chapter 11
Haruki
Under the cover of darkness, they set Chiyo’s grave beneath the roots of a keyaki tree, halfway up the mountain that stood to the west of Fusae Castle. Haruki paused in his search for more stones to watch as Junpei placed a rock in Chiyo’s slackened jaw. Though Junpei had never met the girl, he did it with almost reverent care.
“How many times have you done this?” Haruki asked him.
“Too many.” Junpei rose and leapt from the grave, his vampire agility belying his appearance of middle age. “And not enough.”
“What do you mean?”
He turned, the whites of his eyes flashing like moonlight. For them, the night was full of rich colors, the darkness tinting all it touched rather than swallowing it.
“We were all members of the samurai class once,” Junpei reminded him. “We talked a great deal about honor in those days. Yet we treat the victims of our fangs with more reverence than those of our blades.”
“In battle, it’s kill or be killed. There’s no honor in that,” Haruki said. “Or at least there isn’t much of it.”
“Spoken like one who never supported the shogunate,” Daisuke called out from higher up the slope.
How things have changed with the two of them. But maybe I cannot change so easily.
Time altered everything, like a fast-moving river through soft rock. Everything but Haruki.
What they’d once fought for—and fought about—no longer mattered. Daisuke, whom Haruki once counted as an enemy, was now on his side about the effects of the factories. Rather than bringing Haruki a sense of peace, it unsettled him completely.
It was as if they’d stood for nothing all their lives. As if all the deaths had no purpose.
No purpose but to bring them to power.
