Page 21

Chapter 21

Yoshi

S pring fed summer, who rested in Autumn’s embrace. Throughout, Kaneko remained by my side, an even more permanent fixture than he’d been for the years leading up to our hearts opening to one another.

Father didn’t notice. At least, if he did, he didn’t acknowledge it, as was his way when events occurred beyond his control. I was fairly certain he’d been too wrapped up in governance to pay his son’s goofy grin much mind.

Mother, however, saw everything.

Her eyes were keener than the Emperor’s dragon’s. At first, I was afraid of her sideways glances and knowing smiles. Kaneko and I maintained a respectful distance when in public or with my family, but our eyes couldn’t hide the affection we shared. It had only taken one glance across the kitchen table for Mother to eye us with maternal judgement.

Or had that been skepticism? Perhaps concern?

She hadn’t spoken her thoughts aloud, not until Kaneko left for the day and we sat alone, eating edamame and watching the sun set over the sea’s distant horizon. The sky was painted in brilliant oranges, yellows, and reds, more shades of those simple colors than I knew existed, making me wonder if Amaterasu herself had graced us with her handiwork, such was the beauty of the moment.

“Son,” Mother began, sipping fruit juice from her bowl and eyeing me over the rim. “Kaneko visits often these days.”

I swallowed hard, trying not to choke on a particularly stubborn bean.

“He’s always been here, ever since we were little,” I said, trying to convince us both there was nothing unusual about his constant presence.

One brow rose, and I knew I would lose whatever battle we fought.

“ Anata ,” she endeared. “My baby boy, I am your mother, and I know you better than you know yourself. I see how you look at him, how he looks at you in return.”

I downed half a bowl of sake and stared at the setting sun.

Her hand made its way atop mine. “Do you love him?”

My head snapped up, and I was sure my eyes had grown larger than the sun. My throat was suddenly dry, and my tongue felt thick and awkward in my mouth.

I blinked a few times, desperate to buy time, to think of anything to say that might forestall whatever tectonic shift was happening between us. Her gaze was fixed, an odd combination of steel and a baby’s skin, firm yet gentle.

My gaze fell to my hand still buried beneath hers.

“I do,” I said in barely a whisper.

Her hand squeezed.

“And he loves you?”

I looked up, tears forming. “I think so—yes, he does. I know he does.”

Her eyes closed, and she released a slow, deep breath. When she looked up again, I could feel her gaze weighing and judging me in ways I had never before felt.

Did she disapprove? Was she disappointed? Would I be punished for loving another boy despite the practice being commonplace among many Samurai?

Oh, gods. One of the most important jobs of a Daimyo was to provide an heir. Would Father drop me from his succession now that I could no longer fulfill that duty? Would they disown me? Would I be exiled?

Would they punish Kaneko?

My heart stilled as my breath froze.

“I only care for your happiness, Yoshi. Please know that,” she said, the “but” of her statement hanging in the air.

“You don’t sound . . . pleased.” It was a stupid thing to say. Of course, she wasn’t pleased. Her son loved another man. He wasn’t who she raised him to be, who she thought he was. Her little boy died before her eyes and was resurrected as someone she couldn’t know.

Would she still love me? Would she turn away, too? Was her heart breaking as mine filled with hope for a future with the man I loved?

She closed her eyes again, bracing herself against whatever words were to come.

“You will be Daimyo . How will you and Kaneko provide an Anzu heir?”

Well, I had to give her credit for laying it right out there.

Shit.

“I . . . we hadn’t . . . Mother . . .”

“Shh, dear one. Do not answer now. I only ask so you may consider. If you are truly to lead our people, you must learn to see every piece on the board, not merely those on the front lines. Surely, Takeo- san has taught you this much.”

Takeo.

Hells, I hadn’t even considered what my uncle would think. He was funny and irreverent, but he was also my father’s greatest warrior, one of the most accomplished Samurai in the whole Empire. What if he didn’t approve? What if he denounced our relationship? He could challenge me for Father’s role, invoke his right of combat. He was in line. It wouldn’t be a stretch. The people would accept him, especially if he painted our relationship as anything but legitimate.

Gods, why did everything have to be so complicated?

“Yoshi?”

My head drooped as I muttered, “Do you . . . do you think Uncle will be angry?”

Mother laughed.

She actually laughed.

Then she covered her mouth with the back of her hand and tried to school her expression, though her eyes continued to dance with something other than annoyance.

Amusement? Did she think this was funny? My terror? My anguish? My very future falling apart before her eyes—and she laughed?

“Yoshi, you are as blind as your father.” She snorted through another laugh. “Have you ever seen your uncle court a woman?”

My head snapped up. That wasn’t what I’d expected her to ask next. I mean, I didn’t exactly have a script for this conversation, but Takeo’s courting life was nowhere near a list of topics I would include on such a list.

“I, uh, well . . .” My mind raced.

Had I? What was she trying to tell me? “No, I don’t think so.”

Her hand moved from her own mouth to cup my cheek. “My sweet, innocent boy, your uncle prefers the company of men. He would not be angry or disappointed. It isn’t possible. He is more proud of you than many fathers are of their sons. He adores you.”

“And Kaneko? Does he . . . adore Kaneko, too?”

She stifled another laugh, then drew in a calming breath.

“Son, Kaneko has been part of our family since you two were babes. There is nothing to accept or deny. You have simply become more than brothers.”

I hadn’t realized my hands were shaking until Mother placed both of hers atop them. I was finally able to draw a breath. I hadn’t planned on having this conversation. Who would plan such a thing? In every dream—nightmares, really—Mother grew furious and stripped me of my name. In another, Father ordered Kaneko’s execution by my hand.

I could still recall the weight of the katana as I dropped the blade.

Okay, those were the more dramatic dreams, but the theme was consistent throughout each of them: Kaneko and I would not be accepted and would likely spend our lives as outcasts from all those we loved.

But if Mother spoke truly—?

“What of Father?” I asked without thinking.

Mother’s hands squeezed mine again. “He has been consumed with the Emperor’s war. I do not think he knows anything more than that your childhood friend visits often. You men are blind in so many ways.”

She said the last part with a wistful smile that oddly warmed my heart.

“But,” she continued. “I believe this will take Hiroki some time to accept. He will come around. You are his son, and he loves you as the gods love their own, but this will be a shock.”

“But he’ll be okay? He won’t disown me? Or make me hurt Kaneko?”

Mother laughed again. “Yoshi- san , where do you get such ideas? Of course not! There is nothing you could do to make either of us disown you. As for Kaneko, should he treat you poorly, he will have us to contend with. But Kaneko loves you, son. I feel it in his gaze.”

My grin widened to impossible proportions, and a small, very unmanly giggle escaped. “He really does, Mother. So much.”

The brilliance of Mother’s smile was blinding.

She gripped my shoulders, pulling me into her, and held me until the sun was well and truly gone.

“Yoshi- san , Kita- san !”

We looked up to find one of our household servants approaching. “The Daimyo makes final preparations for the festival. He commands both of you to attend him.”

“He commands us?” Mother whispered through a chuckle turned snort that made me giggle again. “Best we do not keep our great lord waiting.”