Chapter 15
1322 Words
Of course, he paid her a visit again. For it may well be one of the few times he would get to do so. Thank goodness it was another day blessed with sunny weather and cool, refreshing breezes.
As always, she was sitting at her usual place in the open-air pavilion. The air was, as before, fragrant with the scents of camellia and osmanthus blossoms. She finished a series of hand exercises to warm up her fingers before practicing on her harp.
Kai closed his eyes and breathed slowly, evenly … the crystal-clear notes swirled around him, like a river of the purest water …
He knew nothing of music … he was not a connoisseur of this art, or any particular art, for that matter …
But the sounds soothed him … healed him … cleansed him …. made him dream … of her, of the future …
A vision of the future, of what could be possible drifted before his mind’s eye … she and him, together … a family, children laughing …
i***t … what sort of future can you give her?! Fool, that’s what you are … a fool! Who are you to even think of having a life with her?! A fool! An i***t!!
His teacher’s cruel and cutting words, or rather what he thought Master Gorō would say to him outright struck hard and deep … if his words were knives, then Kai would have bleeding on the ground many, many times over …
He closed his eyes to that almost-unbearable pain. Thanks to his line of work, he was well-acquainted with it. Pain was something he had long gotten used to and had never really feared, even though it was something he never sought. Pain was as familiar to him as his own shadow.
But that was physical pain. He had no defense, no relief to the ache in his heart …
He had to close his eyes because he felt the unfamiliar prickling sensation of tears gathering from behind …
Suddenly, there came a sharp, snapping sound! Trrrrckckk!!
One of the Aryah’s harp strings broke!
“Ighh!” she made a small cry of pain because of the shock she felt when the string snapped and cut into her skin. It left an angry red mark on the back of her hand. There was a faint line of blood, a scratch really.
As silently as before, Kai dropped from the ceiling of the open-air pavilion, and bent a knee before her. He was not wearing his hood. It was pushed back so his face could be seen.
“Oh, hello again Kai,” she turned, smiling at him.
“Good day, Miss Aryah. May I have a look at your hand, please?”
“Oh this? It’s just a scratch. One of my harp strings suddenly split and snapped back against the back of my hand, that’s all.”
“If it’s just a scratch, Miss Aryah, then I hope you won’t mind if I take a look at it. Do you?”
“I don’t mind. But what harm could there be in a tiny scratch? I don’t think it will kill me.”
“No, it most likely will not, Miss Aryah,” he replied, straightening up to his full height. “But even a tiny scratch can cause infection and lead to health complications if left untreated.”
“Oh. Um, well … if you insist.” Aryah looked at her hand again. The cut did seem a bit deeper than she suspected. More drops of blood appeared on the cut, forming a trail of tiny red beads.
He held an open palm before her. She placed her injured hand upon his.
His hand was warm, steady. She felt herself slowly relaxing, feeling herself safe and protected. An odd sensation, considering that it was one of those hands where killing is second nature. He wore black fingerless gloves made of padded leather. His fingertips were a bit rough but not unpleasantly so. Unconsciously, her lips stretched into a small smile of serene contentment.
“Miss Aryah?”
“Yes, Kai?” She looked up to see the shinobi looking at her intently. His unusual, silver-grey eyes were unreadable.
“Er, nothing.”
Dammit! Focus, Kai!
She has the loveliest hands he had ever seen. Fair and soft skin, like flower petals. Slender, graceful fingers with rounded oval nails tinged in a faint pinkish hue. Her hand felt cool and soothing as it rested upon his. He resisted the urge to take advantage of the situation and gently caress her hand.
It was an inner battle that became more and more difficult with each passing minute …
He had to do something before he completely lost it …
With his other hand, he took out a small glass vial from a leather pouch attached to his belt.
“What is that?” she asked.
“Medicine, very good for cuts and deep wounds.” He shook the vial. It contained a dark brownish-red liquid which bubbled a bit with a faint tan foam after he gave it a few strong shakes. He also took out a small piece of fluffy wool fibers and formed it into a ball. Opening the stopper of the vial, He tipped some of the liquid onto the ball of wool fibers. He lightly applied it onto her cut. The liquid left faint brownish-red stains on her fair skin.
“Does it sting?” he asked.
She shook her head, smiling a bit in surprise. “On the contrary, it feels a bit cool. Quite pleasant, really.”
“That’s good. It means your wound is not infected.”
“What would happen if it’s infected?”
“You would get a painful, stinging sensation.”
“I see. How fascinating! But I suppose you’re used to it, and you know the best way to apply it.”
Kai shrugged. “Pain and injuries are old friends of mine. It comes with the job.”
“I’m not surprised. I think it’s remarkable for people like you to be able to do something like that on a daily basis.”
Kai’s mouth twisted a bit in a sort of grimace. “It’s not exactly something most people would be proud of. Much of what I do is quite dangerous. That’s why we take all sorts of precautions, like knowing how to treat injuries, and having life-saving medicines like this one,” he explained, holding up the now-stoppered vial before putting it back into his pouch.
“Is it a very common sort of medicine?” Aryah asked, her curiosity piqued.
“No, not at all. In fact, the formulation of this medicine is a secret and is only known amongst a few people in my clan. Ah, there. All done.” Kai covered Aryah’s cut with a thin strip of plaster gauze.
“Oh! Thank you, Kai.”
“You’re welcome, Miss Aryah. You can now go back to your music practice.”
“Oh, but I can’t now. Music practice is unfortunately, over for the day.”
“But why? It was a very minor wound, and I don’t think it will affect your musical skills at all.”
“No, it won’t. But among us musicians, we have certain superstitions. A broken string is a bad omen. It’s unlucky to continue and it will mean bad things will happen to the musician who plays it.”
A cold, cold finger of fear went down Kai’s spine. It made him very afraid for her life …
- Writer
