Debts called for repayment, and sins called for reparations. Striking this balance was the only way she had managed to keep her wobbling body upright.
“She was kind enough to reach out to me…even when I’ve done nothing to deserve it. I cannot take that for granted. I must pay her back—and soon.”
Each time Reirin broke into a fever, she was reminded that she didn’t have much time left. The same went for each time she woke up nauseated. Each time she practically passed out atop her bed. Whenever she couldn’t stomach her food, whenever she saw her pallid likeness in the mirror, whenever she struggled to breathe for the briefest of moments. She couldn’t bring it up to anyone else, but the smallest aspects of her daily life always filled her with a sense of urgency.
She couldn’t take advantage of anyone’s kindness. If she relaxed for even a moment, she would never will herself to stand again.
“I don’t have much time,” she finished.
Gyoumei held his tongue and gazed upon his fiancée. His silence was partially owed to the glimpse he’d gotten of her hidden darkness, but he also suspected that feelings even she had yet to identify still lay buried deep within her. Normally, no matter how she felt on the inside, an obedient girl like Reirin would have at least brought the proffered teacup to her lips.
The problem runs deep indeed…but this might be as far as we get today, Gyoumei thought with a small frown and a sigh.
Not long ago, Reirin had given up on forming genuine connections with others or wanting things for herself. Seeing as she had only just begun to regain the proper emotional range of a teenage girl, he couldn’t expect her to work out all the nuances in one go.
“For now, just acknowledge that Shu Keigetsu is worried about you.” He placed his hands over Reirin’s, which were gripping the teacup hard enough to turn her knuckles white. “She considers you an irreplaceable friend.”
Then the unexpected happened. Reirin suddenly relaxed her grip, and tears poured from her eyes like a taut thread had snapped.
“Is that true?” The tears streamed down her face and dripped onto the ends of her sleeves. “Am I truly someone irreplaceable to Lady Keigetsu?”
As the wet droplets seeped into her robes, Reirin’s forehead creased. Her face twisted into a grimace, teardrops slipping past her defenses. For the first time in quite a while, she actually looked her age.
“I…find that difficult to believe,” she said.
“What? Why?”
“Because…” Clenching the teacup in her hands once more, Reirin bared the feelings she’d been bottling up for days. “Because Lady Keigetsu can make better friends than me in no time…”
“Hrm?” Gyoumei straightened up with a serious look and stared down at Reirin for a few long moments. “No, I don’t think—” He started to say something, but after glancing around the room, he bit back the words and nodded. “Right. Go on.”
“Yes, sir…”
Since Reirin was looking at the floor to hide her tears, she couldn’t see what kind of face her cousin was making. Still, he had instructed her to keep talking, so she did her best to string her thoughts into coherent sentences.
Gyoumei’s words had triggered a flood of emotion inside her. After averting her eyes from that roiling mass of feelings for too long, she at last lifted the lid and let them see the light of day.
“When I came running from Treacherous Tan Peak, I saw Lady Keigetsu having tea under a pavilion with the other Maidens. She chatted with everyone so amicably that I was dazzled by the sight.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“That was when it hit me…that Lady Keigetsu was going to be all right. She would be just fine without me. She could make everyone else…make things work with everyone else.”
“I see.”
Feelings coursed through her too fast to put into words. She said things in the wrong order, and the gist of it all was childish, but Gyoumei listened carefully all the while.
Forgetting to set the teacup back on the table, Reirin went on, “Lady Keigetsu is such a wonderful person. She grew up in unfortunate circumstances, but as soon as one gets to know her better, her charms become immediately apparent. I was reminded of that anew.”
When she closed her eyes, she saw that pavilion bathed in the red light of the torches. The sight of Keigetsu casually bantering with the other Maidens, wearing her emotions on her sleeve. The girl’s back as she turned on her heel and retreated to that bright spot.
At the time, Reirin had been tempted to tug on her friend’s sleeve and hold her back. For a fleeting moment, she had thought to stop Keigetsu from leaving the nest, and she was ashamed of herself for it.
“I felt responsible, that’s all.”
“I’d do the same for anyone.”
Where did she get off being so selfish? She was only one of Keigetsu’s many friends.
“I realized I had gotten ahead of myself. By chance, I happened to become her first friend…but I would soon become expendable,” Reirin told herself, the tea shuddering as she gripped the cup tighter.
She couldn’t overstep her bounds. She had no right to reach out.
“That is all the truer when I am bound to die and leave her behind.”
Reirin had merely stated a self-evident fact, yet her voice trembled as she said it. When had she become so weak and foolish?
“Or so I believed…but then Lady Keigetsu rushed to my rescue last night. She always shines so bright, like a comet. I have no right to burden her…and yet, she never fails to show up in my times of need. The least I can do is repay her somehow.”