Laura Rowland - The Fire Kimono

Although she wouldn’t meet his eyes, she nodded.

“How well?”

Hana said, “Tell him.”

“Tell me what?” Sano said, mystified.

His mother sighed. “Colonel Doi and I were once engaged to be married.”

Sano’s body didn’t register the shock. His breath didn’t catch; no blow landed in the pit of his stomach. It was as if her words had fallen on a cushion whose stuffing had already been punched out by earlier revelations about her. But he felt a sensation like a knife piercing the core of his spirit. That his mother had been engaged to Colonel Doi, and he hadn’t known, put to question everything he’d believed about their family.

“When was this?” he asked.

Sadness and shame clouded her face. “Before I met your father.”

He’d thought his father had been the only man in her life. He knew it was stupid to be jealous on his father’s behalf, or his own. His father had been dead eleven years; nothing could hurt him. And Sano had no claim on his mother before his birth. But emotions were often neither rational nor controllable.

“Did my father know?” Sano asked.

“Yes.”

“And neither of you ever told me.” Anger gathered heat in Sano. The engagement didn’t mean his mother and Doi had been involved in any unseemly way, because most marriages were arranged, and betrothed couples were barely acquainted until their wedding day. But Sano felt as if her prior engagement was a violation of her marriage to his father and their family.

“We didn’t think it mattered,” she said weakly.

“What happened with the engagement?”

“It was broken.”

“Obviously.” Had it not been broken, she couldn’t have married Sano’s father. “Who broke it? Your parents or Doi’s?”

Her gaze turned vague. “It was a long time ago. I don’t remember.”

“Do you remember why it was broken?”

“… No.”

Sano beheld her with disbelief. The breaking of an engagement was a serious matter. In this instance it had resulted in his mother marrying a poor ronin and losing her place in high society. Sano doubted that even after more than forty years she’d forgotten.

“What did Colonel Doi think about the broken engagement?” Sano asked.

“Must we talk about this?” Her voice was querulous, her face wan.

“If you expect me to save you, I have to figure out what’s going on,” Sano said. “You have to work with me.”

She closed her eyes briefly, as if wanting to hide from him. “I’m sorry.”

“All right, let’s forget Colonel Doi for now,” Sano said. She’d already given him a possible clue in that direction. If Doi had been upset about the broken engagement and nursed a grudge all this time, maybe that was why he’d incriminated her. He certainly merited investigation. “Let’s talk about Tadatoshi. Do you remember him?”

“He was just a boy. I barely knew him.”

Her hand crawled across the quilt toward Hana. The maid held and patted it reassuringly. Her stern gaze disapproved of Sano’s treatment of his mother even if it was for her own good.

“Could he really have been kidnapped?”

“I don’t know.”

Sano remembered the shogun saying Tadatoshi had been prone to wander off. That was a preferable explanation for his disappearance that Doi’s story had unfortunately eclipsed. “What can you tell me about the day he disappeared?”

A shadow of memory darkened her eyes. “It was the day the Great Long-sleeves Kimono Fire started. Everyone in the house was supposed to travel across the river, to get away from it. But when we were ready to leave, Tadatoshi was missing. We looked all over the estate, but he wasn’t there. His father sent us all out to look for him in the city. But nobody ever found him.” Her voice broke. “I was caught in the fire. So were other people from the house. Only a few of us survived.”

“Did anyone think at the time that Tadatoshi had been kidnapped?”

“I don’t know. There was so much confusion.”

“If you didn’t kidnap him, maybe someone else did.” Sano knew it was dangerous to assume she was innocent, but he couldn’t believe she would kidnap a child any more than kill it. “What about this tutor, this monk named Egen, that Colonel Doi mentioned? Could he have done it?”

“No! I mean, I don’t know, I can barely remember him.” She squirmed in bed, her face averted from Sano. “Please, no more questions. That was such a terrible time. I can’t stand talking about it.”

Hana said, “Leave your mother alone, young master. Let her rest.” She used the same no-nonsense tone as when scolding him during his childhood. “Pestering her isn’t going to make her memory come back.”

“Very well,” Sano said, and watched his mother sag with relief. “But we’re going to have to discuss it, the sooner the better. The more information you can give me, the more chance I’ll find out who really killed Tadatoshi.”

As he left the room, he didn’t wonder if she was hiding something. He wondered how much it was, and how bad.

“I didn’t want to say this when the young master was here,” Hana said, “but maybe you should tell him the whole story.”

Etsuko stared at her maid in horror. “I can’t.”

“But he’s said that if he’s to help you, you have to help him.” Hana was sympathetic but firm. No matter that they were servant and mistress; her long years of devotion gave Hana the privilege of speaking her mind. “I think he’s right.”

“I’ve told him plenty.” That had been hard enough. Etsuko pulled the quilt up to her chin. She wished she could crawl under the quilt and hide from her troubles, just as she’d hidden for forty-three years. “He doesn’t need to know the rest.”

“What would it hurt for him to know?” Hana persisted. “After all this time?”

“You saw his face when I told him about my engagement to Colonel Doi. It did hurt him. And it hurt me to see him angry because I hid my past from him.” As heartache and shame filled her, Etsuko rushed to justify her decision. “But I hid it to protect our family’s honor. For his sake as well as mine.”

They shared an understanding glance. Hana knew most of what had happened. She’d stood by Etsuko and faithfully kept her silence. But now she said, “Have you stopped to think that your secrets may come out no matter what you do? There are other people alive who know. Better that your son should hear the truth from you first.”

But the truth was even worse than Hana thought. Etsuko hadn’t shared the whole story with her longtime confidante. She prayed that those who knew would keep the silence they’d maintained all these years. They had as much reason as she, but could she count on their discretion?

“If you don’t tell him, maybe I should,” Hana said.

“No!”

Etsuko grabbed Hana’s arm and clutched it so tightly that Hana gasped in pain. In her eyes shone the fear that her mistress would harm her to keep her quiet. Etsuko experienced her own sudden trepidations that Hana might know more about her and Colonel Doi, Tadatoshi and his tutor, than she’d thought.

“I’m sorry,” Etsuko said, releasing her hold on Hana. “You’re right. I should tell him. And I will.” She had no intention, but she must prevent Hana from talking. “But not yet.” She lay back on the bed, feeling exhausted and ill. “This has been too much for me. I can’t bear any more right now.”

Relenting, Hana tucked the quilt around her. “All right. Rest awhile. I’ll be here if you need anything. We’ll get through this together.”

Etsuko closed her eyes, but knew she would have no rest. The discovery of Tadatoshi’s murder had opened a door to the past, and out of it came the winds of memory, rushing upon her like a storm.