Chapter 4

…the room is in a state of twilight.

A fire dances in the hearth, but it seems to not illuminate, but rather spread the darkness, greedily devouring any hope for a good outcome.

A beautiful woman, past the age of forty, looks at the scrolls on the table and fans herself. Her movements are forced and wooden, as if she doesn't know what to do. Flashes of light dance on the golden flowers and bells adorning the pins holding up her hair. In her black eyes, there is a look of despair and pain.

A gray-haired man, dressed in black and wearing a heavy medallion carved from a violet stone, looks at the woman. There are two others in the room: a man ten years older than the beauty, and a boy of sixteen.

And I can't see very well. I suddenly realize that I am frozen in a narrow, dark space, spying on them through a tiny hole in the wall. The smell of dust, wood, and dampness tickles my nostrils. But I know I can't give myself away with a single word or breath, because then my refuge will be discovered, and I won't be able to learn anything else.

It's a miracle I haven't been exposed yet. The people in the room are more likely to suspect that Ketsu, my little brother, who pokes his nose into everything, is listening in, than the amorphous Aska, who shines neither with wit nor with cleverness. Ichigo, our older brother, is sitting there now with my parents and grandfather. He was called so that the heir would be aware of the affairs of the Shenghai clan. They consider me small and useless, but I was the one who found this abandoned hiding place! We'll see who wins!

And in that very second, I realize that I can feel the mind of that other Aska, young and impetuous, not thinking about the consequences. We see with the same eyes, hear with the same ears; together, we breathe in the dust and dampness.

"The Yuichi won't wait," my father says in a low voice.

My mother's fan closes with a snap. I know from somewhere that it's also a tessen. A terrible weapon in a skilled person's hands. But the metal ribs are hidden under the violet cloth embroidered with golden cobras, so it's not immediately obvious if they are ornaments or death.

"They want too much. Do they really not understand that the torii cannot be opened without the blood of a clan member?"

From somewhere, I know that torii are tall gates without doors, with two crossbars on top. They stand behind the clan's temple. You can't enter without consequences. You can't leave as the same person. The torii connect our world and the otherworld. The Shenghai clan is protected by the Weaver; she lives behind the gates. Those who worship her can try to make a deal with her. Those with the blood of the Shenghai clan can ask her for things. But those who come from outside without reverence, but with a thirst for the power of the Thunder's Edge, get what they deserve. If you try to open a different clan's gates without the blessing of their patron god, you can summon such powers into this world that... it would be better for such a person not to have been born.

"That's why they want Aska, Shizuka," the gray-haired man says. "They present it as a marriage contract, but..."

"Do they think we're pagodas without roofs?" my mother says with a bitter smile.

The answer is not needed. The Yuichi clan is strong; they are numerous, wealthy, and loved by the Ksa-Karans. The Edge of Light, the Yuichi's domain, has not suffered from natural disasters for centuries, the soil regularly yields a harvest, and the treasuries are full of enchanted artifacts from ancestral tombs. It seems the Three-Armed One truly protects his children. But the Weaver... the Weaver punishes.

"Is there nothing that can be done?" Ichigo asks quietly.

He's three years older than me. And this question is just an attempt to fill the void. The Yuichi have been digging a hole for us for a long time. They dream of having the Thunder's Edge under their power. They forced the Ikeda clan to leave Taiyoganori, and now they've come for us. I don't know everything, but I've heard some things...

The head of the Yuichi clan wanted my mother to be his wife, but she chose my father. An old grudge has been layered on top of a thirst for power.

Shizuka—a beauty and a brilliant woman, Shizuka the Strife—that's what they call her. You'd think it's traditional to love submissive women, but my mother has the temperament of a venomous cobra. Even if she bends and bows, acknowledging a master, sooner or later she will still twist and bite, injecting deadly venom. She and my father immediately found common ground, so there was no question of who would get the rebellious heiress of the Shenghai clan.

"There is," my grandfather says grimly.

Everyone in the room looks at him, holding their breath.

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I fidget because the wall is uncomfortable; pressing against it is a real punishment. My muscles are already aching, and my nose itches. But I can't... I can't give myself away!

My grandfather slowly gets up, thoughtfully smoothing the medallion hanging around his neck.

"I need to go to the Weaver's temple. If she gives her blessing, then neither the Yuichi, nor the Ze-u, nor the Emperor himself will be able to touch us."

My father frowns, Ichigo bites his lower lip. Only my mother looks at the massive black crystal on the table next to the scrolls.

The silence that envelops the room feels vile and eerie, like a dark pool you can't escape.

"What do you say, my children?" my grandfather asks.

My mother slowly nods, my father crosses his arms over his chest and then says:

"I hope the goddess chooses Ichigo."

My brother flinches.

Everything before my eyes spins, objects merging into a wild vortex. It feels like my head is being squeezed in a vise, my breath is knocked out, and I fall screaming into the darkness.

"Aska! Aska!"

I'm shaken, a slap lands on my cheek. I open my eyes and catch Misaki's hand, which was ready to deliver a second slap.

My head is buzzing, and the dimly lit room with the people in it is still in my mind's eye. My heart is pounding in my throat. I know from somewhere that the old man succeeded. But not in the way he had intended. The goddess didn't choose Ichigo. The goddess chose the chattering Aska, who later ended up at the Gozen School.

"Misaki," I say, exhaling. "Why did you hit me?"

"You were screaming," Haruka, who had appeared behind her shoulder, says helpfully.

Both roommates look sleepy, but their eyes are filled with concern.

I run my hands over my face. It feels a little better. The horror of the black abyss I fell into in my dream is slowly fading.

"I'm sorry, I had a bad dream."

"Naked Yachiharo, was it?" Haruka asks, surprised.

Misaki immediately elbows her in the side, but she pays no attention.

"No, not that bad," I grumble. "I promise not to scream again; go back to bed. And thank you for waking me up."

"Sleep won't bother us," Haruka yawns. "You know, exams are coming soon. Even if you don't want to think about it, it's better to get enough sleep."

After that, everyone got back into their beds, and the rest of the night passed peacefully. I was afraid I wouldn't fall asleep until morning, but as soon as my head touched the pillow, sleep pulled me into its embrace.

And it did so well that I almost overslept for my morning run. This time, I didn't get a chance to properly think about the night lights and the dream itself. I would bet it was "sent" to me from my past life… the life of the useless Aska. I definitely saw her family. Grandfather, mother, father, two brothers... Was there anyone else? Or did the Weaver decide to show me a piece of the mosaic?

I would have pondered it further, but Misaki and Haruka joined me, apparently deciding that you can never have too much training. As a result, we started talking about the end of the semester, which would be this winter.

"We have two exams waiting for us," Haruka announced, exhaling loudly.

"Which ones?" I asked, stretching.

My muscles were already well warmed up, so the warm-up was comfortable.

"Aska's body is better than mine," a strange thought suddenly came to me. "Much better."

I froze, trying to figure out why I had decided that. Did I have health problems in my past life?

"...and mentalism," Misaki's words reached me.

Great. I didn't hear the first one, and I wish I hadn't heard the second one at all.

"Aska, don't float off into the clouds," Haruka snorted, starting to do side bends. "Or are you already thinking about what you're going to write in calligraphy?"

Ah, so calligraphy and mentalism. Well, at least there was a chance not to fail at one of them.

"Of course I am," I grumbled, returning to the task at hand but switching legs. "I'm probably going to write a love letter to Teacher Yachiharo. I'll try really hard, pour all the ryoku I can gather into it, and then put the letter in a frame. I'll bring it to his door and leave it there with pink petals. Let him know that I'm studying his subject not for money or for mischievous deeds, but only for love."

"Sometimes, looking at your mentalism talents, you really might think you're studying it for the love... of masochism," Haruka said.

I was offended to the core, but I couldn't help but admit: she was right. If Yachiharo didn't kill me with a textbook, it would be progress. Jokes aside, I had to urgently catch up on this subject. Calligraphy was a different matter. Even though I hadn't succeeded last night, I still felt it was my thing. I just needed to practice, and I'd be able to write the kanji I needed and fill them with strength the right way.

"And at the end of the year, you'll have to choose a specialty exam as well," Misaki added, squatting.

Judging by her dreamy look, she wanted to become a Blade Master, which meant she would try to get into Teacher Eishu's classes. Haruka, on the other hand, had taken her specialty exam last year. She chose ryoku technique, deciding that it would be the most useful thing in life. Looking at what was around us, you couldn't say she was wrong. Haruka would make a great warrior. I think many tsumi would lose their heads to her hands.

Haruka generally seemed to me to be the model of a warrior. Composed, reserved, purposeful. It looked like she was the steel core in the group with Aska and Misaki. Misaki served as an excellent buffer, softening any situation, and Aska... Aska, it seemed, was a pain in the ass. But we still found something in common.

I lowered my leg and took a deep breath. I needed to plan my day. Classes, training with Ayu, and then maybe I could beg for access to the library. I know it exists here, and it's a very good one. That means I can dig around and find information about the Shenghai clan. And at the same time, figure out what those lights over the Tokugawa school were. Maybe it was a common thing here, but it's better to know than to guess.

"She can't hear us," Misaki's laugh reached me.

I frowned slightly and turned to the girls. Both of them were looking at me with curiosity and barely holding back their laughter. So, what was it? Was my hair messy? Was my nose dirty? Or was there something wrong with my pants?

No, everything was fine.

"What is it?" I asked cautiously.

"We're asking," Haruka chuckled. "What additional subject are you going to take at the end of the year?"