Bond like Drops of Water

2

Still, the prospect of another doju in need of girls was an opportunity I couldn't ignore. "Did you tell anyone else about this?" I asked, making my voice light like a sparrow's, hoping to lure him into complying.

The man sucked at his own lips, squid ink staining the corner of his mouth and his teeth. "For a crab, or some shrimp, I'll keep the news to myself for three days," he said. "After the first Inspection Day. If you can make it to this one, you'll be ahead of the line."

I gave him three crabs and the last of a half of a large tuna fish, what would have cost a couple of silver tsukas at least. I bugged him again for details, but he had none to give, only the promise that he'd hold off telling anyone else for three days.

That meant I had two days to walk to the village. My father would be home with fish this morning, but I considered the journey, and thought I'd be able to make it if I didn't sleep the first night. Maybe I'd get lucky and a traveller with a carriage would allow me to ride for a couple of coins.

As I sat at the altar that morning, I prayed for lots of fish that day. I prayed for beauty. I always prayed for my mother's eternal happiness in the afterlife. I prayed that this doju would take me in, and change my life. I promised to be a good daughter, and to ensure my father would be happy, and may never have to fish again.

I waited in silence, my head bent, staring at my thighs as I thought of what I wanted.

A small, gentle blue flash of light distracted me from my thoughts. I picked up my head.

For a small moment, my reflection within the altar mirror had changed. Overlaid on my face, a blue outline of a human stared back at me.

Was that... mother?

Her eyes. Her mouth. The way her hair was combed back and in a bun on her head. It looked just like her.

I held my breath, staring hard. "Mother?" I called.

I blinked and the image was gone.

My heart stilled. I blinked again, leaning in and stared into the mirror.

At some point during my studies, I'd heard about altars being gateways, and that they were the strongest point to talk to ancestors beyond. Sometimes people reported hearing whispers from parents and grandparents long dead, sending comfort and advice for those seeking wisdom.

Hearing...not seeing.

I would have dismissed it as a simple slip of mind, if it wasn't for the blueness of the light. The glow. Hazy. Flowing. Like water.

I inspected the mirror, and checked on the light coming in from a small window behind me. I saw no evidence of a trick.

Still, the image never returned, as much as I secretly wished it to happen. I thought of my mother. Maybe it was a good sign.

I could only hope it was.

I left the altar and moved on to put on my shoes. Near the door was the prettiest robe I could put together, packaged and ready for the journey ahead. It was my mother's, and had originally been one her mother bought for her, although it had been old fashioned when I brought it out from storage. I traded a seamstress some very fine tuna in exchange for the work of mending and fitting. The result was a stunning green robe with cranes and willow trees, while still an old style, the length going to just below my knees, with some dark breeches, I thought the colors would distract from the shorter length.

It would have to do.

I smoothed the package, ensuring it was covered carefully so it wouldn't get dirty on the journey. I placed it in my travel bag. With it, I carried my own wood comb, and some white clay I'd saved to use as makeup. They said too much clay on your face would eat your skin, but a single day and a light dusting would be enough to even out the pale color of my cheeks, and remove the dark circles under my eyes.