“War,” Takeo confirmed. “The northern provinces will follow the Asami. The south remains loyal.”
“The islands?” I asked.
“The island provinces . . .” Takeo glanced at Haru. “Wait to see which way the wind blows.”
“Cowards,” Esumi muttered.
“Pragmatists,” Haru corrected. His dispassionate assessment surprised me, given we spoke about the utter destruction of his entire family and all they’d built. “They know whoever loses will be erased. Entire family lines will end. They wait to pick the winning side.”
“But there is more,” Takeo said, producing another document. “This is a report of testimony gleaned from the questioning of a capturedwako. He confirms what I suspected—the Asamiordered the attack on Tooi. Asami Eiko has been in league with the pirates for more than two years. They wanted our ports weakened, our defenses scattered. They wanted to force us into either neutrality or siding with their cause.”
“They succeeded,” I said bitterly.
“No, they did not.” Takeo’s eyes flashed. “They revealed themselves. Now your father knows our enemy.”
“The council argued for hours about how to respond,” Haru said. “Some wanted to fortify the temples and remain neutral, to keep every Buddhist monastery out of the conflict. Others sought to declare for the Emperor immediately.”
“And Master Giichi?” I asked.
“He said nothing,” Esumi replied. “Just watched and listened, like he was waiting for something.”
“Or someone,” Haru added meaningfully, glancing at me.
Before I could ask what that meant, Takeo stood. “I leave at dawn. Yoshi, your father needs my counsel. I expect he will declare for the Emperor within the month, and the seas will only grow more dangerous.”
“I should come—”
“No.” His tone brooked no argument. “You do well here.”
His praise was a taste I barely recognized. None of the monks offered such, and my uncle had always been sparing with his own. Given how difficult my temple journey had been, I was startled—and more than a little pleased—to hear it.
He went on. “You must stay. Train and grow stronger. Your father needs a warrior, not a half-trained boy racing home to hide behind his mother’skimono.”
Andtherewas the uncle I knew and loved. His words were harsh though not wholly untrue.
“Which brings me toourannouncement,” Haru said. “Esumi and I have decided to remain at Temple Suwa for a time.”
“What? Really?” I couldn’t hide my excitement.
“Officially, we will continue our martial education,” Haru confirmed. “Unofficially, we remain because the capital is a death trap and my father wants me far from it.”
“I’ve been putting Yoshi in the dirt since we were children,” Kaneko said casually, picking up his rice bowl. “Nice to know I’ll be able to continue the tradition.”
“Excuse me?” I turned to him in mock outrage. “You got lucky a few times on a slippery dock—”
“Every time.”
“That’s not—you didn’t—” I spluttered. “Tomorrow. Training grounds. We’ll see who puts whom in the dirt.”
“Nice grammar, smart boy. Think yourbokkencan keep up with your mouth?” Kaneko’s grin was exactly as I remembered—confident, teasing, irresistible.
“This should be entertaining.” Esumi grinned at Haru. “Young love expressed through violence. How romantic.”
“Says the man who courted me by repeatedly stealing my desserts at formal dinners,” Haru replied dryly.
“There’s no violence in stolen tarts,” he said, popping a piece of pickled ginger into his mouth. “Besides, it worked, didn’t it?”
Takeo shook his head, but I caught him stifling a smile.
