Imako

Kenji paced in front of the shrine occasionally kicking up dirt. His thumb anxiously fiddled with the handle of his short blade as his face contorted into a look of disgust. “Toshiro is a fool!” He muttered to himself and spat on the ground. He peered past the red gate of the shrine - the barrier that kept the evil spirits out - and squinted, trying to make out whether the distorted lump lying on the floor of the pavilion was the girl he was supposed to be watching or not. A shrine seemed like an odd place to let a girl sleep, much less on a stage meant for ceremonial sacred dances.

He didn’t like any of this. He couldn’t fathom why his older brother didn’t just walk up and snatch the girl himself. This was his village and he had every right to. He instead elected to use trickery to obtain the girl, something Kenji did not care for. Where was the honor in that? If I had my way, it would be done right. His mind began to trail off to that familiar place - that fantasy in which Toshiro had been the one born five years after Kenji, and not the other way around. That was Kenji’s curse. He tilted his head back as he visualized himself in a hot spring with a cup of sake cradled between his thumb and forefinger. He could smell the warm odor of the sake wafting into his nose as the cicada’s long evening drone buzzed all around him.

“Come for a morning prayer?” A gravelly voice came from behind Kenji.

“Hey, don’t sneak up on someone like that old man!” Kenji snapped as he whirled around.
A
n old man dressed in a ridiculously flamboyant silk kimono stood before Kenji and let out a hearty laugh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you. I just saw you admiring the shrine, so I thought I’d join you.” His wispy beard fluttered in the wind as he straightened out his extravagant clothing.

“Yeah? Hmph, I was just making sure our guests are well attended to.” Kenji trailed off. He was only half lying.

“They are treating us well, thank you.” The old man eyed the two swords tucked in Kenji’s sash.

“How’s the girl?” Kenji nodded toward the pavilion.

“Imako is recovering, I am hopeful.” The old man rested his hand on his own short blade “You must be Toshiro’s brother; I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you. I am Shigeo of the Ota clan.” He said, bowing respectfully.

Kenji’s pulse quickened as he tightened the grip on his short blade. He loved the feeling that came over him just before his blade left its scabbard; it is when he felt most alive. He could almost hear his blade calling his name, begging Kenji to spill blood. He knew this Shigeo was a traitor and had every right to die right here, and Kenji had every right to kill him. If it wasn’t for that damned Toshiro! He would have to give the traitor his name without a fight – for now. “Kenji of the Aoki” He said as he gave a shallow bow, “If all is well I will take my leave.”
“
Very well” Shigeo ran his free hand through is beard as Kenji started toward the village.

A young girl lay curled up on a straw mat rolled out in the center of the empty stage as a strong mountain breeze knocked a cherry tree branch against the wooden pavilion. Consciousness slowly trickled back to her as she stirred under her blanket. Her eyes fluttered open like a butterfly landing on a snow willow. Fallen leaves danced with the wind across the stage as she stretched her legs and sat upright, rubbing her eyes with her palms. Her face scrunched with confusion as she inspected her surroundings.
Imako drew the covers to her chest realizing she was only sleeping in her underwear. As she looked down, she noticed the bandages wrapped around her torso and shoulders. She could feel another bandage wrapped around her forehead and a tender spot on the back of her skull throbbed with pain. The clothes folded at the head of the stairs caught Imako’s attention. She slipped on the layers of clothing that made up her kimono. The sleeves covered her hands too much and the bottom dragged on the ground. Imako drew the kimono as tightly as she could to keep the ill-fitting garment on her. She descended the stairs leading up the stage to slip on her shoes and looked around to get her bearings.
Imako found herself on a path paved with stone leading from the gate of the shrine to the prayer hall. Stone lanterns lined the path on either side. She walked to the center of the path and spotted an old man in dressed elaborate clothing for his age. As he approached the gate and bowed deeply in the direction of the shrine, she noted the two swords in his belt showing his status as a warrior and a nobleman. He had full cheeks, a thin beard, and the stride of a horse. When he arose from his bow and stepped past the gate, he gestured toward Imako.

“Care to join me?” He shouted as he walked toward a washbasin.

Imako shuffled past the two doglike statues that were the guardians of the shrine and stood next to him as picked the ladle placed across the basin.

“I’m glad to see you are awake, how are you feeling?” Shigeo asked as he very formally ladled water onto his left hand.

Imako stared at the ground. “I’m well.”

“Well, I’d say so. I am surprised to see you are standing already. You were delirious when we brought you here.” Shigeo ladled water onto his right hand.

“What is this place?”

“This is a shrine dedicated to the gods of this mountain. They say there is a sacred waterfall here that only a priestess can visit.” He chuckled to himself “Must be some waterfall.” There was a long silence as Shigeo ladled water into his mouth and quietly spit it out.

Imako could feel her face flush “Who are you?”

“So full of questions!” He rinsed off the ladle and gently set it back onto the washbasin to complete the ritual “You weren’t exactly at your best when we first met.” He got to his knees faced Imako and bowed so deeply that his hands and forehead touched the ground. “I am Ota Shigeo, at your service.”

Imako’s mouth dropped open as she jumped back in surprise. She had seen no more than thirteen winters and yet this nobleman was bowing to her as if she were his queen. She was confused about many things but this sent her mind into chaos. “W-Who…” She stuttered as burning tears began to well up in Imako’s eyes “Who am I?” The look of confusion and helplessness on Imako’s face unsettled Shigeo. He stood up and placed his hand on Imako’s shoulder.

“I don’t have all the answers, but I can take you to somebody who does” Shigeo reassured the girl who now had tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m just a courier. The man that found you is currently in hiding and we couldn’t travel very far with you in the state of delirium that you were in, so he sent me here with you until you recovered. We’ll catch up with him as soon as you are fit to travel.” Shigeo paused for a moment as he planned “Tomorrow probably, I think our gracious hosts are beginning to suspect something.”

Shigeo started toward the prayer hall “Follow me”. His joyous disposition had transformed to something quiet and guarded. Imako followed as closely behind as she could despite her shorter legs and kimono that wanted to be back on the ground. As they passed the stone lanterns Imako noticed the white hydrangeas in full bloom and was not sure if it was even summer last time she was cognizant of the season.

“Where did you find me?” Imako asked as she held up her kimono and skittered to keep up with Shigeo.

He looked back at her with a raised eyebrow and remained silent. When they approached the steps to the prayer hall Shigeo paused, “You really don’t remember anything?”
Imako shook her head and wiped away the tears that were beginning to form in her eyes again.

Shigeo let out a grunt of surprise as he ascended the stairs. When he reached the top, he pulled a coin out of his purse and placed in into an offerings box. He did a brief ritual to awaken the spirits so that they would hear him, and prayed silently.

Imako sat on the soft pine floor and waited for Shigeo to finish. Her palms were cold and clammy and she was finding it hard to muster the willpower to keep still. She had absolutely no control over her situation. Imako looked out the wide entrance of the temple and considered running. She knew if she was quiet, she could make it to the stone lamps before Shigeo noticed. He had a long stride, but she was young and fast. But my kimono… She knew she would not be able to keep it together and run at the same time. Even if she made it out of the shrine, what would she do, go home? She did not even know where home was.