Asaka.
Shaking his head to dispel the mental image, he concentrated on drinking his tea. As its heat rushed through him, he shivered. He closed his eyes, trying to quiet his rising panic.
“More?”
The quiet voice startled him with its gentle request. Opening his eyes, he stared at Mitsuo breathlessly for a moment before returning the cup.
“Yes, please,” he said. “I would like that very much.”
Mitsuo lifted a steaming teapot at his side and refilled the cup. As Toshi gulped it down, trying not to think, Mitsuo reached within his kimono and brought out four wrapped rice cakes. Toshi gratefully accepted them and wolfed them down.
The food and spreading warmth helped him pull out of his panic. Nothing bad had happened. Asaka sat as immobile as always. He slowly relaxed, though he still had no idea how he’d gotten there. If he’d messed up somehow, perhaps he’d been forgiven. Something had happened, though; otherwise why would he have gotten his breakfast on deck?
“Boy,” Asaka said.
He jumped to his feet, his heart racing from the call.
“Yes, lord?” He steeled himself as the samurai’s demon-masked stare turned in his direction.
“Your schedule has been changed. From now on you’ll remain on deck at night, sleeping in between the time of your readings,” the samurai stated. “You’re forbidden from sleep while you’re below. Is this understood?”
A million questions rose in his mind. He dared voice none of them. Something had gone horribly wrong, and he had no idea what it might be. “Yes, Asaka-sama.”
“You will now take a reading.”
“Hai.” Struggling out of his blankets, he glanced around looking for his instruments. Not seeing them, he looked to Mitsuo, hoping the other knew where they were. He followed the old retainer’s pointing hand and spotted his basket sitting beside Asaka’s stool. Swallowing hard, he rushed to retrieve it. He hurried back to the railing once he’d fetched it, his feet complaining about the cold seeping in from the planking through his stockings.
Falling into the rhythm of his work, he took his various readings and computed their present position.
Once he was done, he walked over to show the results to the steersman. The skeleton’s glowing yellow eyes looked more subdued than usual.
Toshi held the map before him, pointed to their calculated position and then made to move away.
“Stop. I’m not finished yet.” The steersman reached a hand out for him.
With an apologetic nod, Toshi placed the map back in view, trying to hide his surprise.
The steersman looked at the map for a long time before telling him he was through. With a fear-mixed thrill, Toshi rolled up the map and hurried back to his blankets. They were out of the territory familiar to the steersman. He was being forced to rely on Toshi’s calculations whether he liked it or not. It was now Toshi’s responsibility, Toshi’s burden.
Not sure if he was pleased by this or not, he enfolded himself in his blankets. He checked the instruments and then set them aside before studying the map to become more familiar with the waters ahead. Quietly, Mitsuo sidled up beside him and put the instruments and other tools back in the basket.
Without saying anything, he held out his hand, asking for the map.
Not daring to question Mitsuo’s actions in front of Asaka, he rolled up the map and gave it to him.
Mitsuo bowed slightly before rising to his feet. He walked toward the seated samurai and left the basket next to their lord’s stool.
Toshi was slightly surprised as the bent skeleton then returned once more to his side.
“Time to sleep,” Mitsuo said.
He didn’t need sleep. He’d slept all day and had only been up for a short while. He knew his new orders demanded he sleep while on deck, but somehow he hadn’t expected to begin so early. He lay down, not able, despite his confusion, to raise the courage to argue; not when Asaka would be able to hear.
As soon as Mitsuo saw him
Shaking his head to dispel the mental image, he concentrated on drinking his tea. As its heat rushed through him, he shivered. He closed his eyes, trying to quiet his rising panic.
“More?”
The quiet voice startled him with its gentle request. Opening his eyes, he stared at Mitsuo breathlessly for a moment before returning the cup.
“Yes, please,” he said. “I would like that very much.”
Mitsuo lifted a steaming teapot at his side and refilled the cup. As Toshi gulped it down, trying not to think, Mitsuo reached within his kimono and brought out four wrapped rice cakes. Toshi gratefully accepted them and wolfed them down.
The food and spreading warmth helped him pull out of his panic. Nothing bad had happened. Asaka sat as immobile as always. He slowly relaxed, though he still had no idea how he’d gotten there. If he’d messed up somehow, perhaps he’d been forgiven. Something had happened, though; otherwise why would he have gotten his breakfast on deck?
“Boy,” Asaka said.
He jumped to his feet, his heart racing from the call.
“Yes, lord?” He steeled himself as the samurai’s demon-masked stare turned in his direction.
“Your schedule has been changed. From now on you’ll remain on deck at night, sleeping in between the time of your readings,” the samurai stated. “You’re forbidden from sleep while you’re below. Is this understood?”
A million questions rose in his mind. He dared voice none of them. Something had gone horribly wrong, and he had no idea what it might be. “Yes, Asaka-sama.”
“You will now take a reading.”
“Hai.” Struggling out of his blankets, he glanced around looking for his instruments. Not seeing them, he looked to Mitsuo, hoping the other knew where they were. He followed the old retainer’s pointing hand and spotted his basket sitting beside Asaka’s stool. Swallowing hard, he rushed to retrieve it. He hurried back to the railing once he’d fetched it, his feet complaining about the cold seeping in from the planking through his stockings.
Falling into the rhythm of his work, he took his various readings and computed their present position.
Once he was done, he walked over to show the results to the steersman. The skeleton’s glowing yellow eyes looked more subdued than usual.
Toshi held the map before him, pointed to their calculated position and then made to move away.
“Stop. I’m not finished yet.” The steersman reached a hand out for him.
With an apologetic nod, Toshi placed the map back in view, trying to hide his surprise.
The steersman looked at the map for a long time before telling him he was through. With a fear-mixed thrill, Toshi rolled up the map and hurried back to his blankets. They were out of the territory familiar to the steersman. He was being forced to rely on Toshi’s calculations whether he liked it or not. It was now Toshi’s responsibility, Toshi’s burden.
Not sure if he was pleased by this or not, he enfolded himself in his blankets. He checked the instruments and then set them aside before studying the map to become more familiar with the waters ahead. Quietly, Mitsuo sidled up beside him and put the instruments and other tools back in the basket.
Without saying anything, he held out his hand, asking for the map.
Not daring to question Mitsuo’s actions in front of Asaka, he rolled up the map and gave it to him.
Mitsuo bowed slightly before rising to his feet. He walked toward the seated samurai and left the basket next to their lord’s stool.
Toshi was slightly surprised as the bent skeleton then returned once more to his side.
“Time to sleep,” Mitsuo said.
He didn’t need sleep. He’d slept all day and had only been up for a short while. He knew his new orders demanded he sleep while on deck, but somehow he hadn’t expected to begin so early. He lay down, not able, despite his confusion, to raise the courage to argue; not when Asaka would be able to hear.
As soon as Mitsuo saw him
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