Chapter Text
Kohama isn’t much to look at. Not that Akemi had high expectations, based on what little Taigen had told her about his village—but even so, she finds it underwhelming. And it does stink of fish; she has to cover her nose as she rides down the main road. For a moment, she imagines herself living in one of these little huts and gutting cod from dawn to dusk as a humble fisherman’s wife, looking up from her work and wiping her sweaty brow as Taigen brings in the day’s catch. She knows now that she is meant for so much more.
She has her guards make an inquiry at the only noodle shop in town. From there, they turn south and make their way to Master Eiji’s forge, herself on foot. For the discretion of this particular mission—and having learned her lesson well about the dangers of traveling on the road as a woman—she has disguised herself as a servant boy this time around. She has to admit it gives her a small thrill to be able to go about unnoticed. Perhaps I should do this more often…
She does find herself slightly disappointed to arrive at the sword maker’s forge and find Mizu already waiting for her. “Tea?” he asks. He pours a cup for each of them before she can decline. “Ringo’s idea, not mine,” he explains. “He was horrified at the thought of not having at least a pot of tea ready for a royal visitor.”
Akemi picks up her cup and sniffs the tea, watching Mizu carefully. After a moment, he rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his own tea. “Don’t worry,” he says dryly. “It’s not drugged. I wouldn’t dream of doing that to some poor unsuspecting person.”
She lets out a delicate snort and sips her tea: it’s excellent. (Ringo is a man of many talents.) “I had my reasons,” she answers loftily. “How did you know I was coming?”
“Kohama’s a small place. Word got around town that there was some noble lady dressed up as a boy asking after me. I figured it had to be you.” He shakes his head at her dismayed expression. “Come on. No real serving boy has soft hands like yours. Or your pale, pretty face.”
She tugs her sleeves over her soft hands. “Where is Taigen?”
“Out training Ringo.” Mizu shrugs and looks down, but not before Akemi catches a glimpse of his cheeks and the tip of his nose turning slightly pink. She files that small piece of information away for later. “I assume this not a purely social visit from the wife of the new shogun’s brother,” he continues. “Why not send a messenger?”
She scoffs. “You would have just ignored a royal summons,” she says. “Don’t pretend otherwise. But yes, I do have a task for you and Taigen.”
Mizu raises his eyebrows. “If you’re in need of warriors, you have an entire army at your command. There must be hundreds of experienced samurai ready to throw themselves at your feet. Tell them to do it.”
“Oh, are you busy?” Akemi asks. She fishes a folded scrap of paper from her pocket and holds it up. “I have the names of two men written here,” she explains. “The old shogun may be dead, but his wife—my mother-in-law—is knowledgeable about many of their dealings, and their last known whereabouts. I am happy to share this information as well.” Then, with a sigh of feigned regret, she tucks the paper back into her pocket. “Of course, if I’m mistaken and you’re no longer interested…”
Mizu’s eyes follow the paper. He grinds his teeth. “Don’t play games with me, Princess. What do you want in return?”
“I believe we can help each other, that’s all,” she says with a shrug. “Abijah Fowler is dead and not available for questioning, thanks to you. Fowler was ambitious and wealthy in his own right, but I find it hard to believe that he would have had the resources to raise, train, arm, and conceal a private army with the aim of overthrowing the shogun without backing from someone higher up. I’d like to find out just how much higher.”
Mizu sets down his tea and crosses his arms. “And what does any of that have to do with me?”
“I think you know,” she says. She runs one finger around the rim of her teacup. “Heiji Shindo’s fortress off of Mihonoseki—you alone have successfully infiltrated it. Fowler has to have left evidence behind. Ledgers, correspondence, maps. All of this must be brought out into the light. And one other thing.” She pauses. “I want to come with you.”
He laughs. “I don’t think so, Princess.”
She waits. Onryo or not, Mizu is still a man. It is as Madame Kaji taught her: you need only nurture his weakness. Dangle in front of him the thing he wants the most and he will come to you like a moth to flame. For some men, flattery and attention is all they need; for Mizu, it’s vengeance. She watches his eyes settle on the pocket with the scrap of paper and she knows for sure that she has him.
“Fine,” he relents at last. “We go back to Heiji Shindo’s fortress—you, me, Taigen, and Ringo. You get what you want and I get what I want, and then we go our separate ways. We make our preparations this evening and leave at first light tomorrow. Do we have a deal?”
Akemi doesn’t bother hiding her smile. “We do.”