Page 32 of The Tainted and the Tamed
There, unnamed things lurked, visible only through his immortal sight. “Look,” he said, pointing to a stone lion at the entrance to the shrine.
Junpei followed the line of his gaze. “The little gods are here. See how they cluster by the sacred tree?”
Haruki bit back a snort. He thought of it as natural magic, something separate from what he could access as a vampire, but similar in essence—an unknowable force that, if attached to a vampire body, provided strength and speed unmatched by any other being.
For Daisuke, they were restless spirits. “Poor souls,” he murmured, and promptly looked away. “At least they’re not hungry ghosts. Maybe these festivals bring them peace.”
From the flicker of discomfort on Daisuke’s face, Haruki wondered whether he thought them old enemies felled in the war.Each of us is tortured in our own way, by our own minds.
Yet all around them, the streets teemed with joy and life.
Some of those marching carried the signs of area businesses, familiar to Haruki from his meetings; he could not recognize the faces, however, having only seen them through the privacy screen. Women danced in sync behind glowing parade floats, children begged their parents for odango and sweets at the food booths, and the people on either side of the parade route chanted back at the marchers shouting their colloquial call.
He chanced a glance at Junpei, who had settled on keeping his mask pulled down over his face. Through the eyeholes, Haruki saw wonder. Daisuke had picked up the local chant quickly, joining in as if he did this every year.
His face was practically aglow with happiness.
For Haruki, it was too much. So many people—so many beating hearts and drums. And through the traditions of the festival came so many memories of the past. He could have come here fifty or a hundred years ago and found a similar scene.
Instead of being able to enjoy himself, an ache grew within him. It was a reminder: he’d missed so much while in isolation.
Just as his breaths became too rapid and his slow pulse began to race, he saw her.
Ms. Mukai Murasaki was just a few feet away, with only a dozen people between them. Her eyes were fixed on the parade, crinkling at the corners with mirth. She barely broke focus to say something to the woman beside her—another of his servants, perhaps.
Her face was like serenity itself.
He felt his heartbeats slow again, his panic ticking down. He had only one thought now:If I could speak to her—if she would smile at me that way—perhaps I’d have a sliver of her serenity and be happy, too.
If they noticed his departure, Junpei and Daisuke did not try to stop him. Nor could they have. Haruki moved through the crowd as if it was water, some instinct—or perhaps his lordly bearing—making them part for him. He was at her side in but a few, measured breaths.
“Ms. Mukai,” he said, raising his voice over the noise and offering her a constricted bow amidst the press of the crowd.
She turned, her face filled not with calm contentment but with panic. And in that moment, he realized:
She knows.
Chapter 16
Murasaki
“Wait! Wait for me!”
Pinching the side of her kimono, Murasaki shuffled after the other maids, the manservants, cooks, and gardeners, all leaving in a huddled pack to head to the festival.
“Ms. Mukai, you should be in bed!” Kanako chirped at her, barely slowing her stride. She clung to the footman leading the way by lantern, as if fearful of the coming darkness.
Eriko turned at the same time, her face alight with surprise when she saw Murasaki. Moments later, Eri was at her side, taking her by the arm. “Are you sure about this, Saki?” she asked. “You were so sick yesterday morning.”
“Quite sure.”
“You do look worlds better.” Eri’s face brightened as she said it. Yet soon after, she shook her head. “I don’t envy you when Ms. Tanabe finds out you were well enough to go out in the cold night, but not well enough to work.”
“Let me worry—about that,” Murasaki said, still catching her breath. Suppressing a small cough, she patted Eri’s gloved fingers with her own woolen gloves.
Murasaki didn’t care if this was her last night alive. Sitting in an empty room and waiting for the end was intolerable. If this was to be it for her, she wished to fill her final hours with the smells of street food and the parading lanterns that glowed like jewels in the night.
Besides, she felt better now.
