Page 7 of Kimiko and the Accidental Proposal
Kimiko followed her gaze, scanning the scattering of puffy clouds in the winter-blue sky. “Are we actuallyexpectingone?”
“Why not? This week is the most popular for wedding feasts, betrothal announcements, apprenticeship postings, and class advancements. Any applications filed on Dichotomy Day could still arrive today. Or responses to applications.”
“I suppose so.” Kimiko’s heart seized at a disturbing thought. “You didn’t file any applications on my behalf, did you?”
“Would I do that?”
Kimiko groaned. “Pleasesay you didn’t.”
Sakiko shook her head. “We need to get Noriko contracted first. And if nothing better turns up at New Saga, you can sift through her spares.”
She nodded. That was pretty much what she’d expected. After all, they were searching for young men who were interested in transferring permanently to Kikusawa and serving as shrinekeepers. Far from a typical career path. Any reavers who applied for Noriko would fit the same profile Kimiko needed.
Grandma was adamant that the girls stay, and Mama showed a shockingly ambitious streak. Reavers were quite fashionable now, and she was all for securing the best for Noriko. Only Daddy seemed unhappy with the family’s current obsession with genetic inheritances, and Kimiko wasn’t entirely sure why. This is how matches were made in the In-between, with an eye to continuing—and ideally, strengthening—one’s line.
Sakiko’s lips pressed thin. “I filed thirty blind applications and added Noriko’s name to a couple of circulating lists. We extended the search parameters.”
Kimiko shuffled her feet. They’d searched locally at first, mostly focusing on graduates of Ingress Academy. “What’s the extent now?”
“Worldwide.”
A drastic change that smacked of desperation. “Hasn’t anyone applied for her?”
“Yes, but none of those men canimproveour situation.” Sakiko pouted. “We can do better.”
Kimiko started to say that they really couldn’t do worse. Except … theycould. “I think Abe Fujiwara is interested in Noriko.”
“The butcher’s son. Yes, I’d noticed.” Sakiko propped her chin on her fists. “Worse, Noriko’s finally noticed.”
“You don’t think she would …?”
“Based on the flush in her cheeks and the shine in her eyes, I’d say our big sister is perilously close to repeating a pattern that could doom us to ever-deepening mediocrity and eventual expulsion from the In-between.” Sakiko’s lips trembled for a moment, but her conviction was rock-steady. “Youneedto make the best possible impression at New Saga.”
FIVE
Class 3-C
In keeping with reaver tradition, New Saga High School began its inaugural term on the first day of the New Year. After opening assembly, Kimiko walked slowly through the halls, marveling at the sheer number of Amaranthine in attendance.
Yes, she’d had afternoon tutors from this or that clan. And sure, there were Amaranthine advisers, lecturers, and mentors among the staff at Ingress Academy. But there, most of the teachers and all of the students had been reavers. Here, at least a quarter of the student body wasn’t human.
She’d been fascinated by the clans all her life, but from a distance. Everything she knew from stories and fables now felt secondhand and stale. Becausethiswas vividly, dazzlinglyreal. Did reavers of the upper ranks get to mingle this freely with the Amaranthine? Envy pinched at her soul, but only for a moment. Because she was intensely glad to be here.
She owed Sakikobig time.
Savor this. Never forget this. Kimiko slowed her steps even further, trying to prolong the minutes. She needed to collect every moment and keep it safe. They were limited editions in the truest, cruelest possible sense. This year might be the only time she’d ever have any lasting contact with the Amaranthine.
They were by far the most eye-catching students in the halls, since they were dressed for celebration. She recognized the colors and crests of a wide range of clans—bear, dove, horse, moth, deer. She’d even spotted a phoenix during the assembly.
Hisoka Twineshaft himself had delivered the opening address, reason enough for the news crews and paparazzi cordoned off in a sizeable section to one side of the auditorium. Spokesperson Twineshaft extolled New Saga students as the world’s future, a generation committed to living in harmony. And he’d pressed home one surprising point: theyweren’tthe same. And they didn’t need to be. New Saga’s students would be an example to the world—exploring their differences, finding their balance, forging the bonds of trust.
She guessed that this principle explained why New Saga had such an unusual dress code. In most schools in this part of the world, no matter what grade level, differences were banished by uniforms. New Saga’s non-reavers held to this tradition with high-collared black uniforms with gold buttons for the boys, pleated skirts and wide collars with knotted scarves for the girls.
Kimiko herself was dressed in reaver garb—fitted breeches and plush winter tunics that came in a variety of muted colors depending on specialization. She wore the basic black of general studies. To her relief, most of the other reavers were the same. But several had already managed to distinguish themselves. Their tunics stood out. Willow and mulberry. Indigo and plum. Coffee and clay.
She jogged lightly up a few flights of stairs and paused at a window. The fourth floor view on this side of the building was impressive—snowy woods and a frozen lake. Property generously set aside for the school’s use by Harmonious Starmark.
A rowdy group came up behind her, and someone clipped her shoulder in passing.
