The smell was getting worse. It was pungent, overpowering, and wet: she felt as if she were lying among rot and mold on a riverbank. She ached all over, and the ground wouldn’t stop shaking.
Where am I? Why is the ground shaking? Touko thought.
Kanata’s wet nose nudged her cheek. Touko reached for the dog and tried to sit up. “Kanata…” It hurt to speak. She was unbearably thirsty. On her second try, Touko managed to sit up and look around.
She lay on a simple bed that used sackcloth for sheets. The sackcloth was coarse, so the bare skin of her arms and legs was patterned with it where she’d lain on it during the night. She clutched her cloth-wrapped bundle of belongings to her chest as the cart around her bucked and swayed like a living thing.
That was right: she was in one of the black carts. She remembered that.
“Oh, you’re awake?”
A woman’s voice startled Touko to full wakefulness. She let out a gasp, her eyes darting around the cart, searching for people.
Surprised to hear Touko’s voice, the woman let out a low cry of surprise.
“Hotaru. You know better than to scare the dog,” another woman said tersely. “Keep quiet.” Her own voice was modulated and soft. She giggled a little when Kanata remained silent.
“I’m sorry I surprised you,” Hotaru said to Touko. “How are you? Did you sleep well?” Her face was lined with concern. She covered her mouth with one long sleeve.
Hotaru was an unusually thin woman with a pinched face. She looked young for her age, childlike and innocent, though she was obviously an adult based on her clothing. Touko tried to examine her further, but the shaking of the cart was interfering with her ability to concentrate.
Kanata was pressed up against Touko’s leg, unmoving, so close it was like his fur was glued to her skin. It was a relief to have him with her. She hadn’t thought about it last night, but there was nothing keeping Kanata in the cart except for her. He could easily have run away.
Kanata shifted a little to lick Touko’s face, making little woofs and grunts like he thought she was still asleep. She hadn’t moved much since sitting up. She let the dog’s familiar warmth and smell comfort her as she prepared to leave her sackcloth bed.
Touko heard the woman from before laughing—not Hotaru, but the other one. “You’re handling this well, girl. The first night I rode in this cart, I was so nauseous that I threw up a few times. I thought about complaining to the crew last night—no newbies should sleep in the cart on their own—but it seems like I needn’t have worried.”
This woman looked nothing like Hotaru. Her face was dark and tanned and moon-shaped, with a slightly puffy chin. Her lively black eyes glittered beneath two thick and animated eyebrows.
“Here, drink this,” the woman said, passing Touko a bamboo cup. “It’s water.”
Touko reached for the cup, not even remembering to thank the woman before she downed half of it. She was so thirsty and her throat was so parched that the water actually tasted sweet.
Then she looked at the bamboo cup more closely. “Huh. I might have made this, at some point.” She’d made bamboo cups just like this one in the village. She sighed in relief as the cool, refreshing water slid down her throat.
Her bed was in a corner of a small room. The floor, walls and ceiling were all made of dark metal. There was a small window along one wall, and that was where the blue-green light was filtering in. The window was covered by thick glass that wasn’t quite transparent enough to see through.
Hotaru and the other woman didn’t seem like crew members to Touko. She and Kanata must have been put back here with the other passengers for this trip. There were a few more simple beds lining the walls, along with rucksacks and packs all gathered in a large pile: luggage, no doubt, for crew and passengers alike.
“Um…” Touko sat up straight on her bed and turned to face the two women. “What is this place?” Touko asked, noticing another person in the cart. She was a young girl, much younger than the other two, and she sat on a bed by the opposite wall. She hadn’t looked at Touko even once. Touko thought that she and the girl might be around the same age, though it was hard to tell.
Hotaru took a seat next to Touko, seeming timid. “Let’s try this again. I’m Hotaru, and she’s Benio. Kaho is sitting over there. We’re all going to other villages, and this cart is giving us a ride.
“We’re going to get married.” Hotaru lifted a piece of thick white string tied around her long hair. Touko thought it was too long to tie hair. The string was a thin cord, like something she’d tie around her waist as a belt.
Benio also had a long white string tied around her wavy, curly hair. Kaho still hadn’t spoken, but her hair was also bound.
“The cart is taking you somewhere to get married?” Touko blinked in surprise. Some people chose to send their daughters to other villages to marry, though it wasn’t terribly common. On rare occasions, young people who weren’t suited to their native villages moved to get job opportunities elsewhere.
Touko had never heard of people riding in the carts who weren’t going to the capital. She supposed it made sense; the carts visited all the villages, didn’t they? And they carried trade goods from the capital and every place they stopped. It made sense for at least a handful of people to travel this way, even though the concept was unfamiliar to Touko.
Seeing Touko’s dubious look, Hotaru continued, “In my village, we make pottery, like plates and bowls. We exchange pottery for fire fuel, but the soil’s been strange this year. Sliding and scooping it with your hand is like touching the blood of a Fire Fiend. It’s a disaster for the village, of course, and the elders are in an uproar. They performed some kind of divination ritual, and then I was given away as a bride to a village that the elders decided on. I didn’t want to risk my luck with the Tree People—or the Fire Fiends—so I’m taking a ride in this cart.”
“That’s right,” Benio said. “We’re all riding together. In my village, we craft things out of bamboo. Most of the village is made up of bamboo groves. We cut the bamboo and split into thin strips, making baskets, chopsticks, chairs, buckets, that kind of thing.
“But the bamboo wouldn’t grow this year. Bamboo is usually the kind of plant that grows like a weed—no one needs to tend it or work it for it to grow, and grow fast. But for some reason, this year, it didn’t grow at all. The buckwheat that grows in our fields is rotting before it ripens.”
Benio paused. “My village is like Hotaru’s village. They sent me away in the hopes of lifting whatever terrible curse has befallen us. I’m doubtful that the misfortune will end even if I am taken as a wife. I don’t believe in that silly old fortune-telling or divination. Sometimes old people are just really stupid.” She shrugged. “I don’t think they could afford to lose me. I’m worth any five men as a worker.” She rubbed crust out of the corner of one eye with a rough gesture.
Touko’s gaze drifted to the last girl in the cart, Kaho. Kaho stared at the wall, laying on her side and pretending the other people in the cart weren’t there. Her face, framed by untrimmed bangs, appeared small and childlike; there was no way that she was old enough to be married.
And yet, Kaho’s hair was bound in white string, just like Benio’s and Hotaru’s.
“… Kaho’s village collected beautiful stones, I think,” Benio said. “They’re practically transparent, and they’re in demand because they can be used as conduits. Fire fuel sticks to them, and using the stones means that you can power almost anything you want.
“But the soil in her village was bad this year, like it was in mine. The villagers had to delve deeper to find stones, and they still didn’t find very many.
“But you…” Benio gave Touko an appraising glance. “You haven’t been shipped off to be married to save your village from some awful fate.” She pointed to Touko’s hair tie. Like the others, Touko’s hair was tied back, but her hair tie wasn’t white and it lacked the elaborate knot that was in common use by brides-to-be. Not only that, but she was accompanied by Kanata, who never left her side. Benio and Hotaru were obviously interested in Touko’s story.
“I…” Touko gripped her knee-length pants in both hands.”I’m going to the capital.”
Benio gasped, then leaned forward. “To the capital? All by yourself? Why?”
Touko gripped her pant legs harder and forced words out. “Someone… he died because of me. I have to go back to the capital to return his things.”
Hotaru and Benio looked away from Touko as if they were disappointed in her. Perhaps they’d expected a more exciting story, or a less sad one.
“…What’s your name? How old are you?” Benio asked.
“I’m Touko. I’m eleven years old.” Kanata’s name was not asked for, so Touko didn’t give it. She would have to leave Kanata behind when she got to the capital in any case. Getting attached might not be the best idea.
Benio raised her head hesitantly. “Touko, did anything strange happen in your village? When the crew of this cart approached your village, I was stunned. They said there’d been Fire Fiends in the forest recently.”
“What?” Touko asked. Her heart thudded in her chest. She remembered the Fire Fiend advancing on her and the brave Fire Hunter stepping between her and the monster with horror. “Did you say there were Fire Fiends around the village?”
“Yes, that’s what I heard. It’s why we left in such a hurry.” Benio stared into space, folding her arms.
At just that moment, there was a knock on the metal door leading up to this level of the black cart.
“Is the girl we picked up yesterday awake yet? Come out, all of you,” a muffled voice said from the other side of the door. Then the door opened, revealing Sakuroku, the old man that Touko had met the previous night. He was definitely the leader of the cart’s crew. He didn’t spare Benio or the other brides so much as a glance; his sharp eyes searched for Touko.
“I… I’m right here,” Touko said timidly.
Sakuroku wrung out a towel in his hands, then came up to the level where Touko and the other girls were staying via the ramp. He clicked his tongue, rubbing thoughtfully at his beard. “Leave your luggage here. You’re wanted outside. If the dog won’t be parted from you, he can come, too.”
Touko looked back at Hotaru in dismay. The sickle wrapped in blessed paper and the Protector Stone were precious to her, and she hesitated to leave them.
Sakuroku had no patience for Touko’s hesitation. He turned on his heel and left, leaving the door open behind him.
Kanata perked up and headed down the ramp, though he paused to look back at Touko. For whatever reason, Kanata seemed more chipper inside this funny-smelling cart than he ever had in the village.
Touko followed after Kanata, going through the door and entering a hallway made of metal. The floor was a thick wire mesh, all painted black, and the walls were lined with pipes, knobs, gauges, and red and yellow lights.
A lot of the pipes intersected on the ceiling. Touko saw rod-shaped lanterns there and stared. She’d never seen a lantern in that shape before, and there were so many of them, all uniformly spaced.
Sakuroku walked on ahead of her, moving quickly despite his age, his posture perfectly straight.
Briefly, Touko wondered how Sakuroku could walk so fast while wearing his heavy-looking boots.
The passage narrowed, branching here and there and twisting. Touko kept Sakuroku’s back in her sights; it would be very easy to get lost here.
Touko didn’t know how to get back to the small room where Hotaru and the others were. Many times, she thought about asking Sakuroku where he was taking her.
For his part, Sakuroku seemed to take it for granted that Touko would follow him. He didn’t give her so much as a backward glance.
Kanata’s claws clacked on the black wire mesh floor. The whole place smelled strange, like machine oil. The smells were unfamiliar to Touko, who was much more used to the scents of wood and earth and paper.
But I must be in the woods right now, Touko thought. The cart hadn’t reached a settlement, which must mean that they were still traveling through the forest.The forest that covered most of the world, inhabited by only trees, Tree People and Fire Fiends.
Fire Fiends were large beasts, four-limbed and built low to the ground. There were many varieties, but all Fire Fiends had a pure black coat and the red glow of fire burning in their eyes.
Before this place was swallowed up by the dark forest, it might have been a village or a main road.
“We’re here,” Sakuroku said. “Get in.” Sakuroku stood still and opened the door beside him.
There was a room beyond the door that appeared quite large. Two people stood there, using tools on mysterious machines. The floor hummed beneath Touko, and she thought that this room might be the reason why she could feel the cart shaking so much, sometimes.
Cylinders, pipes, and other things that Touko didn’t understand were scattered around. The smell of machine oil intensified and a gust of hot hair slapped her in the face.
“This is the engine room,” Sakuroku said.
Touko didn’t know what an engine room was.
“Hey, Shouzou!” Sakuroku called out to one of the workers.
“Hm?” Shouzou asked. He sat in a chair in the corner of the room, drinking from a tin flask. Touko hadn’t noticed him among the other workers at first. She could tell that he was another member of the crew because of his work uniform. Shouzou seemed to be a young man, maybe the same age as Benio and Hotaru, and he was as thin as a stick.
“She’s the kid we picked up in the last village,” Sakuroku said. “Give her a job.”
“A job?” Shouzou yawned.
One of the other workers shouted at Shouzou for being lazy. The worker’s face was deadly pale, and his expression showed his irritation plainly.
“Heh, heh, I can’t even get a five-minute break,” Shouzou said. “At this rate, I’ll be dead by the time I get to the capital.”
“Take care of the girl,” Sakuroku said.
Shouzou approached Touko, yawning again before replying to Sakuroku. Sakuroku stared at him in appraisal or disapproval. Kanata tensed all over as Shouzou approached.
Scrubbing sleep from his eyes, Shouzou looked down at Touko and Kanata and said, “Come with me.”
Shouzou stepped into the main workspace with the other crew members and stood in front of one of the machines. He glanced over at Sakuroku once, but otherwise remained focused on his task. Touko looked for Enji in the engine room, but none of the workers wore glasses.
Touko inhaled oil and metal and tried not to choke. Until we get to the capital, we’ll spend our time in this mess of machines, she thought. Until I return the sickle, the Protector Stone, and the dog to that Fire Hunter’s family, I… Touko shook her head. Her stomach hurt from anxiety, but she couldn’t go back to her family now.
Enji had told her that the road wasn’t safe, even when they traveled in the cart. I can’t afford to get in anyone’s way, Touko thought.
Shouzou finished tinkering with the machine in front of him, then started walking, his steps slow and a little clumsy. It was completely different from Sakuroku’s agile ease of movement.
“So, kid. We heard that you’re returning a Fire Hunter’s things to the capital.” He paused. “Seems you’ve had a tough time of it, for all that you’re so little.” Shouzou addressed Touko, but he didn’t seem to expect an answer from her. It was more like he was talking to himself.
Touko shook her head at him in a bid to be noticed. She understood that she had as much power here as in her village—that was to say, none—but that didn’t mean she should let him speak over or beyond her like she wasn’t even there.
“No… I’m not just returning a Fire Hunter’s things. It’s my fault that the Fire Hunter died.”
“Yes,” Shouzou said, yawning as he replied. “I heard that, too. But I don’t believe it. You might have heard from the others that there was a sudden increase in Fire Fiends surrounding your village this year. There were seven Fire Hunters in the area who’d come to deal with the problem for pay. We met all seven on this trip. Not the Fire Hunters that set out from the capital, mind; those are registered and it’ll take awhile for them to get here. We met the unregistered guys—Fire Hunters who were close enough to help. The man who saved you must have been one of them.”
Shouzou scratched his chin. “If it were me, I’d sell the sickle to an unregistered Fire Hunter at a high price, and use the dog as a guard dog. Villagers need pets like that, right? I could save my whole village with the money I’d made.”
Shouzou kept talking to Touko as if she were an adult, unaware of the effect his words had on her. It was like Benio and Hotaru had said: her village had been beset by Fire Fiends.
Grandma, auntie, are you okay? Rin, too…
Should Touko have insisted on staying in the village? She didn’t like not knowing what was happening. She wondered if the cart’s crew had warned the village before they’d left, or if it had been the villagers that had warned the people on the cart, leading to their swift departure.
Shouzou opened another door. The room beyond it didn’t smell like oil or machine parts.
“This is your post,” Shouzou said.
“Okay,” Touko said.
He nodded at her, then removed two cords from a pocket that he used to tie his sleeves back. He shrugged. He looked so tired. Then he showed Touko what she was supposed to do.
***
About two or three hours after Touko started working, it was time for dinner. The workers got washed up, rinsing their clothes and sweaty faces in buckets of water. It didn’t take too much time to prepare fresh water for everyone, and there were four different bathrooms in the cart where the workers could go.
Shouzou led Touko to one of the bathrooms, bearing a lamp aloft. The day’s work had been unfamiliar to Touko, and she’d been clumsy at it. Her whole body felt heavy, and no matter now much she scrubbed, she couldn’t get the oil smell off herself. Her hands and feet were wet and filthy.
Kanata, who had nothing to do, sat outside the bathroom and growled every time Shouzou called for Touko.
“Hey, come on, you remember me, right? Dogs are supposed to be smart. And trainable.” Turning away from the dog, Shouzou addressed Touko through the door. “All right, that’s all for today. Go back to your room and have a meal.”
Touko came out of the bathroom quickly. She wasn’t sure she could find her way back by herself. Shouzou led her down the maze of hallways. Kanata padded along behind them.
Getting her bearings, Touko asked, “Uh, Mr. Shouzou? When is Mr. Enji’s shift?”
Shouzou covered his face with his hand, suppressing a yawn. “Oh yeah, the boss picked you up yesterday, right? But you won’t see Enji, at least for a bit. He works in the other cart. He’s a good guy; even the rookies get along with Enji fine. It’s our boss who’s the taskmaster. Bad luck for you.”
They arrived outside the door that led up to the room where Touko was staying. He pulled a lever next to the door, and it opened. Shouzou turned on his heel and walked back toward the engine room.
Inside the room, Hotaru and the others were waiting for Touko. They were already eating, but Benio got up from her chair when Touko walked in.
Benio smiled at Touko. “Well, aren’t you a sight!” she said, wrapping her arms around Touko for a hug. Benio showed her where her meal had been set, and Touko sat down to eat.
Touko’s tray of food consisted of a stale rice ball wrapped in seaweed, cold soup, and a bit of dried meat.
“Thank you for the food,” Touko said, bowing her head. Sitting hunched over, she grabbed the dried meat and held it up to Kanata’s nose. Kanata opened his mouth and swallowed it whole.
Kanata licked his chops, then looked at Touko as if he were expecting more. She wondered if she could get more food for Kanata from the crew, but considered the possibility that they wouldn’t have enough to spare. She might be sharing all of her meals with the dog from now on.
Kaho stood up, thrusting her tray toward Touko. “I don’t need it,” Kaho said. It was the first time Touko had heard her speak. Her voice was clear, but terribly sharp.
“But…” Touko tried to protest.
“I said don’t need it.” Kaho dropped the tray in front of Touko, almost knocking over the soup. Hotaru called out to Kaho, who put her back to everyone and lay down on her bed.
“Kaho, come now, you can’t go without dinner. Let’s all eat together. You don’t want to die of hunger before you get married, right? That wouldn’t help anyone. Not us, and not our villages.”
Hotaru tried to get through to Kaho, but Kaho didn’t respond. Hotaru wept; tears fell onto the knees of her dress.
“It’s so dull in here,” Benio said quietly. “We’ll die of boredom long before we die of hunger.” She shifted in her seat, sitting cross-legged.
Touko grabbed the rice ball from the tray that Kaho had left for her. “Yeah. I have a job, but that’s boring, too. I like working, but it’s weird to be cooped up like this. I feel… boxed in.”
Then, Benio picked up her own rice ball and put it on the tip of Kanata’s nose. Kanata growled at her. Benio growled back.
“You can eat it, you silly dog,” Benio said. “I always thought dogs were better than people. But don’t go around getting a swelled head.” Touko watched in amazement as Kanata bared his fangs.
Then Kanata stopped growling and flicked his ears, which had been pushed back, toward Benio. He exhaled loudly through his nose.
Hotaru appeared alarmed; she was crying a little from fright. “You have an… interesting way of passing the time, Benio.”
“I’m just feeding the dog. He should know who’s in charge around here,” Benio said. “During the day, what I say goes in this cart of ours.”
“You’re not afraid of—oh, look! Benio, he’s eating!” Hotaru said. “Touko, see? The dog is eating from Benio’s hand.”
And he was. Kanata devoured the rice ball that Benio had offered in a few quick bites. Touko could tell that Kanata was being careful not to bite Benio’s hand. His eyes were fixed on Benio’s face, watchful, but whatever he saw in it made his shoulders relax a little.
Touko let out a slow breath. She ate half a rice ball, then turned to face Kaho, who still wouldn’t look at her. From this angle, Kaho looked like a totally different person—a little like Rin, even. Maybe Touko was just missing familiar people.
Eating had been good for Touko, and so had working. The exercise and the bit of food restored her to herself. This morning, she’d been assaulted by so many unfamiliar sights and sounds and smells that she’d felt like a stranger in her own body.
Kanata ate Benio’s entire rice ball, licking his lips when it was gone, then looked up with a start. His sharp ears twitched upward. He glared at the empty air around him as if there was some threat present in the cart with them.
“Kanata?” Touko asked.
Kanata didn’t acknowledge her voice. He was still on edge, though Touko could see no reason why. The cart lurched as it always did, but the cadence of its movement hadn’t changed.
“A dog whistle?” Hotaru asked in a hushed tone, as if she were telling a secret. She wiped her tears out of the corners of her eyes with one sleeve.
“What’s a dog whistle?” Touko asked.
“Oh! Well, you know these carts visit each village before they go back to the capital every year. That takes a lot of fuel, and sometimes the carts run out. That’s why these carts always travel with a Fire Hunter. All Fire Hunters keep their dogs with them. They have whistles that only the dogs can hear; I think they use them to train the dogs and give them orders. The Fire Hunter must have whistled to their dog, and your dog heard them.”
The other cart—Shouzou had said that was where Enji was. Touko was vaguely unsettled by the idea of the other cart. There was another Fire Hunter there—a Fire Hunter, like Kanata’s former master had been. And now Kanata knew that they were there.
“Sometimes, the carts stop, and the Fire Hunter goes hunting. It’s dangerous, so they don’t usually let us know when they’re leaving or what they’re doing. They don’t want us to see.” Benio looked closely at Kanata, who hadn’t moved a muscle since he’d heard the whistle. “Do you want to work, too?” she asked.
The question seemed to shock Kanata out of his still and quiet state. He moved away from them and plopped down next to Touko’s bed.
“Uh… what’s the Fire Hunter like?” Touko asked. “The one in the other cart, I mean?”
Hotaru and Benio exchanged glances. “We’ve never seen him,” Benio said. “But the crew seem to think he’s a real live wire. Maybe a genius, too, at least at fighting. I’ve never heard the other crew members say anything negative about him.”
Touko was relieved. She had no reason to think that this other Fire Hunter even knew that Kanata existed.
“I think his name is Enzen,” Hotaru said.
The name was utterly unfamiliar. Touko repeated it in her head a few times so that she would remember it. She wanted to meet Enzen—not because she wanted Kanata taken away, but because she was curious about what he and other Fire Hunters were like. He might have even known the Fire Hunter who’d saved Touko’s life.
It was raining outside; water droplets splattered against the small glass window. It was pitch dark outside now, but Touko was thinking about what Benio had said. In the light of day, it should be possible to look outside the window and see their surroundings. If they stopped, Touko might catch a glimpse of Enzen the Fire Hunter.
Rain fell on the Black Forest. Touko wondered if it was raining in her village today. All the flowers in bloom would be weighed down by the water and scatter their petals. It was a sad thought, but Touko couldn’t get it out of her head. Her grandmother had never seen a flower: not once in all of her long, long life. But Touko’s aunt had always seemed saddened to see the flowers lose their petals in this season. It was a transitional time between work in the fields and work inside the house, and Touko thought that maybe she disliked the uncertainty or untidiness of it all. She would stare at the petals on the ground as if they were making a mess.
But now Touko thought she was wrong about her aunt. Maybe she was sad to see the flowers lose their petals because they looked so lonely and forlorn. That was how Touko felt at the moment.
It was the first time that Touko had the mental space and time to experience loneliness since she’d left the village. Her breath caught, but she schooled herself to stillness before she gave any of her emotions away.
***
From that afternoon onward, Touko was summoned by the crew and given various jobs to do. She peeled potatoes, mended clothes, and generally did the same sort of chores that she had while she’d lived in the village. Shouzou was the only one who gave her any tasks. The inside of the cart was complicated, and Touko always got lost unless Shouzou was there to guide her.
A lot of the complication came from the fact that the cart had multiple levels. Sometimes Touko would have to climb ladders to get to the top floor. Kanata couldn’t use a ladder, of course, so while Touko was on a higher floor, he would sit next to the ladder and wait for her to come back.
The cart never stopped shaking, even while Touko was working. Sometimes Touko thought she was going to be sick, but Kanata always seemed comfortable and content.
“Sorry you’re the only one we’re putting to work,” Shouzou said. “But the other girls, they’re gonna be brides, so it wouldn’t be right to give ‘em work to do. It’s just not done. You can take that rag off your face now; I know it’s tied tight because I do that myself,” Shouzou said with a little laugh. “Well, that’s it for today. You still don’t know your way around, right? I’ll take you back to your room. It’s time to rest and eat.”
“Yes, sir. Thanks.” Touko nodded eagerly. Shouzou led her back to the room that she shared with the other girls in companionable silence.
***
Over time, Touko got used to the feeling of her legs shaking when she was lying down at night. The view from the cart’s small window never changed; the forest outside was veiled in darkness. There was a clock hanging beneath the window, and Hotaru told Touko that it was working properly. It ticked constantly, and at night, all the hands pointed to the lower half of the clock face.
The cart never seemed to settle down, even when it was time to sleep. They lowered the lights in the cart at night, but never turned them off completely. Benio explained that this was a precaution, in case they were attacked by Fire Fiends on the road. They had to be ready and awake if they needed to flee, and a little light helped with that.
Touko started to feel ill after a few days. She didn’t think that the work she was given was any more difficult than the work she’d done in her home village, but she still felt tireder by the day. The moment she lay down, her whole body felt as light as air. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and brought her blanket up over her head. She had no time to think about sleeping before she fell asleep.
She didn’t expect to have any dreams. Good dreams, bad dreams… none of them came to her. She awoke, gasping, to someone clutching her shoulder and shaking her. She was sweating all over and trembling slightly.
Kaho was the one who’d awakened her. She stood next to Touko’s bed, staring down at Touko as if she were disappointed in her.
“You were being loud,” Kaho whispered. She narrowed her eyes.
Touko listened. She heard only the sounds of Benio and Hotaru breathing deeply and the usual ambient sounds of the cart in motion. Kanata was under her bed, also sleeping, his ears pressed flat to his head. She returned her attention to Kaho and noticed that her expression more closely conveyed irritation than disappointment.
“I’m sorry,” Touko said. “Was I snoring?” She probably hadn’t been; no one else had ever accused her of snoring before. But she must have woken up Kaho somehow, so she asked the first question that came to mind.
“No. You were tossing and turning—talking in your sleep. You did that the first night you slept in this cart, too. You never talk when you’re awake, but when you’re asleep you never shut up.”
Touko was briefly stunned. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to talk to Kaho before, but all Kaho ever did was stare silently at a wall during the day.
“Uh… I’m sorry,” Touko repeated. Kaho didn’t move. Maybe she thought that if she went back to her bed, Touko would fall asleep and wake her again. Touko resolved to pretend to be asleep and stay quiet, at least until Kaho was gone and back in her own bed.
But Kaho showed no signs of moving. She thrust something at Touko that was held in her clenched fist, saying, “Here. This was in your luggage when you first came on board.”
Kaho dropped the little red object onto Touko’s lap. It was her barrette; it had a red enameled flower on it.
“Oh, uh, how did that get here, I mean, uh…” Touko was so flustered that all she could really manage to do was stare at the tiny barrette. Her parents had bought it for her; she remembered looking for it before she’d left the village. Seeing the barrette again reminded her of them. She remembered holding hands with them at the market. They’d bought the barrette for her from one of these black carts.
Even as she toiled in the fields or cut down the undergrowth of the village’s paper mulberry trees, the barrette would remind her of that time she’d spent with her parents. It made her feel just a little happier.
A twisted cord was tied to the barrette, and on the other end of the cord was a slip of paper. Touko wondered why. She turned the paper over in her hands.
“I didn’t have time to give it to you because other people were talking all the time,” Kaho said. “Now I’m giving it to you.” Then she turned her back to Touko and returned to her own bed.
Touko stared after her, wide-eyed, but Kaho didn’t seem to notice or care.
There was writing on the slip of paper attached to Touko’s barrette. It said, “I’m sorry.” Just those two words, scrawled hastily in bad handwriting. But Touko still recognized it; the handwriting was Rin’s.
How had Rin gotten ahold of Touko’s barrette? “I hate that”—that was what Touko remembered Rin saying on the night that Touko and her parents had returned from the market. After Touko and her grandmother went to stay at her aunt’s and Rin’s house, Rin often harassed Touko. She threw her straw sandals on the roof, and when Touko was mixing her grandmother’s medicine, she would deliberately heat the water used to dilute it to be too hot, which would lead to Touko being scolded. Had Rin stolen the barrette because she’d known that it was Touko’s most prized possession?
Touko was annoyed at the thought of that, but not angry. She wasn’t happy to have the barrette returned to her, either. If Rin had really wanted to return her barrette to her, she’d had plenty of opportunities to do it before Touko had left. Touko took the paper that contained Rin’s apology and folded it up small, then slipped it into her cloth bag in the corner. This was a bag that her grandmother had made for her when she was young; the opening closed tight with a drawstring. The Fire Hunter’s Protector Stone and sickle were in the same bag. With the apology note disposed of, Touko clipped her barrette to the lip of the bag.
Touko clutched her bag to her chest; it contained two sets of valuable possessions now: her own, and the Fire Hunter’s. She faced Kanata, who was on the floor, and curled her body around the bag. Touko prayed, hoping that everything would be all right. She prayed for her family in their little house where they made their simple meals.
Kaho had gone quiet, but that didn’t necessarily mean that she was asleep. Touko stood up from the floor slowly, holding her breath so that she wouldn’t make noise. Kaho hadn’t eaten that day, but she seemed to be resting peacefully enough.
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