Kikusawa Shrine

 

“Are you waiting for me?” Kimiko called.

“Not particularly. But welcome home, anyhow.”

Her younger sister was sitting on the third step from the bottom, a round cushion protecting her posterior from frigid stone. The full legs of her red hakama billowed above the neat set of her feet, and her long hair pooled artfully at her side. She made a lovely picture. And knew it.

It was Kimiko’s private opinion that her sister only exerted herself if a minimum of three reasons hung in the balance. Like a strategy quota.

Sakiko took in her appearance with a sweeping gaze. “Your priorities are as baffling as ever.”

Kimiko hunched her shoulders. “Daddy said I could go.”

“I’m not sure we should be relying on his priorities, either.” Her sister’s chin lifted. “You need to make the best possible impression the day after tomorrow. Our future depends on it.”

“One year at New Saga High School isn’t going to add any polish to our pedigree.”

“No, but you’ll be meeting important people.” Sakiko shook a finger at her. “Connections lead to contracts!”

While she didn’t necessarily share her sister’s ambitious brand of optimism, Kimiko couldn’t deny that New Saga represented a unique chance. All members of the Kikusawa branch of the Miyabe family were reavers in good standing, but their numbers and ranking had diminished over the generations.

The only way to bring up the quality of their pedigree was through marriage. But reavers from the best families didn’t apply for lackluster girls. And the daughters of Kikusawa Shrine had few chances to make the kinds of connections that might improve their circumstances.

That was mostly their mother’s doing.

Although Sakiko had a point about their father’s priorities.

Mama was a local girl—not a reaver—but Daddy had brought her into the family. His bride remained blissfully ignorant of the In-between until Noriko was of the usual age to enroll at Ingress. Then came an almighty falling out and an intensely awkward coming out. But Kikuko Miyabe flat-out refused to uphold reaver tradition and send her children away.

People would have talked.

So Noriko, Kimiko, and Sakiko had attended the neighborhood kindergarten, primary, and middle schools. On the condition that they forgo any extracurricular clubs in favor of reaver training at home.

Until her entrance exam for Ingress Academy two years ago, Kimiko’s way of life was barely distinguishable from that of any other girl in Kikusawa. At least outwardly. Because those extra lessons at home had brought a covert stream of intriguing tutors. At the beginning, Kimiko hadn’t understood that many of these people weren’t human.

One of her earliest memories was of a smooth face and strange eyes, soft hands and a gentle smile. She could remember reaching up ... and the stranger reaching back. And being called puppy. Now, she understood that their special guest had been brought in to assess the girls’ potential.

Grandma’s crisp words cut across the good memory. “This is what comes of marrying for love.”

But then her grandfather had said, “A star is a star, no matter how brightly it shines.”

And that had made Kimiko so happy, because the Star Festival had already been her favorite, even back then.

She quickly learned to tell the difference between her human and inhuman instructors. The reavers were usually Daddy’s old classmates, former teachers, or acquaintances from other temples and shrines. Amaranthine visitors were usually acquaintances of her grandfather, or more accurately, of her grandfather’s grandfather. Their memories were as long as their lifespans, and they were willing to show kindness to the descendants of a friend.

Piecemeal. Secretive. Detached. Eclectic. It was like being stuck in the very middle of the middle. Her childhood had rung with constant warnings from Grandma about keeping the family secret from kids at school. She’d then enrolled at Ingress Academy a full decade behind other reavers her age—unknown and unremarkable.

New Saga really might help matters. And the only reason Kimiko would have this opportunity was because Sakiko had applied on her behalf.

“What are you even doing down here?” Kimiko asked.

Her sister patted a squat clay pot at her side. One grandpa used to use during certain ceremonies and rituals. “Checking for icy patches.”

“No, really.” Because the south-facing stairway needed salting about as often as it needed purifying. “What are you waiting for?”

“There might be a packet.”

“Our mailbox is at the back gate.”

Sakiko lifted her eyes to the sky as if asking for patience. “I’m waiting for a herald.”

Kimiko followed her gaze, scanning the scattering of puffy clouds in the winter-blue sky. “Are we actually expecting one?”

“Why not? This week is the most popular for wedding feasts, betrothal announcements, apprenticeship postings, and class advancements. Any applications filed on Dichotomy Day could still arrive today. Or responses to applications.”

“I suppose so.” Kimiko’s heart seized at a disturbing thought. “You didn’t file any applications on my behalf, did you?”

“Would I do that?”

Kimiko groaned. “Please say you didn’t.”

Sakiko shook her head. “We need to get Noriko contracted first. And if nothing better turns up at New Saga, you can sift through her spares.”

She nodded. That was pretty much what she’d expected. After all, they were searching for young men who were interested in transferring permanently to Kikusawa and serving as shrinekeepers. Far from a typical career path. Any reavers who applied for Noriko would fit the same profile Kimiko needed.

Grandma was adamant that the girls stay, and Mama showed a shockingly ambitious streak. Reavers were quite fashionable now, and she was all for securing the best for Noriko. Only Daddy seemed unhappy with the family’s current obsession with genetic inheritances, and Kimiko wasn’t entirely sure why. This is how matches were made in the In-between, with an eye to continuing—and ideally, strengthening—one’s line.

Sakiko’s lips pressed thin. “I filed thirty blind applications and added Noriko’s name to a couple of circulating lists. We extended the search parameters.”

Kimiko shuffled her feet. They’d searched locally at first, mostly focusing on graduates of Ingress Academy. “What’s the extent now?”

“Worldwide.” 

A drastic change that smacked of desperation. “Hasn’t anyone applied for her?”

“Yes, but none of those men can improve our situation.” Sakiko pouted. “We can do better.”

Kimiko started to say that they really couldn’t do worse. Except … they could. “I think Abe Fujiwara is interested in Noriko.”

“The butcher’s son. Yes, I’d noticed.” Sakiko propped her chin on her fists. “Worse, Noriko’s finally noticed.”

“You don’t think she would …?”

“Based on the flush in her cheeks and the shine in her eyes, I’d say our big sister is perilously close to repeating a pattern that could doom us to ever-deepening mediocrity and eventual expulsion from the In-between.” Sakiko’s lips trembled for a moment, but her conviction was rock-steady. “You need to make the best possible impression at New Saga.”