Safe. Far. Secret.
As a scientist, Keishin thought the concept of folding time by trapping it in paper was the most exciting thing he had ever heard in his life. The possibilities of such technology were boundless. Space exploration. Time travel. Research. But no matter how hard Keishin tried, he could not bring himself to care. A single question occupied his mind, following him from Haruto’s home to a rented room at the nearby town’s only minshuku, a room that he and Hana had to share.
The room was enclosed by paper walls and boasted a view of a mountain that Keishin could not see in the dark. Two futons that Keishin guessed would take up most of the floor when unrolled leaned against a corner by the room’s only window. Hana took one of the futons and spread it over the tatami. She reached for the second.
“Don’t,” Keishin said. “I…I mean thanks, but I’ll do it myself.”
Hana nodded and lay down. She turned away from Keishin. “You should try to get some sleep. We will head back to Haruto’s home first thing in the morning.”
“Haruto,” Keishin said, not realizing he had said the name out loud. “Your husband.”
“He’s not my husband,” Hana said without looking at Keishin. “Yet.”
“Oh.” There were probably more than a hundred better responses, but it was the best Keishin could do without betraying the rock in his gut that he knew had no right being there.
“That bothers you,” Hana said.
“What? No. Of course not. Why would it bother me?”
“It bothers you because I kissed you and you kissed me back.”
“That’s not—”
“I should have told you. I am sorry. Haruto and I were matched by the Horishi when we were children. His name is written on my skin.” Hana traced an invisible name over the inside of her arm.
“You don’t have to explain.”
“I want to.” Hana sat up. “Most people in my world do not meet their spouse until the day of their wedding, but my father wanted something different for me. He told me that what happened to my mother might have been prevented if he had understood her better. That is why Haruto and I were made to meet as children.
“I did not make it easy for him to be my friend. As a little girl, I hated being told what to do, and Haruto liked to tease me that when he became my husband, I would have to follow whatever he said. We ended most of our visits with me trying to grab Haruto’s hair and my father trying to pull us apart.”
“That sounds like the foundation of a perfect marriage,” Keishin said in a tone that he had meant to sound funny but came out stiff.
“Haruto and I are very different from each other, but we have learned to be friends. We have felt nothing for each other beyond that. My father used to tell me that we already had abetter start than most people had, and that love or something close enough to it would come later.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“About what?”
“About how Haruto feels about you. He’s risking his life to help you.”
“As are you.”
“That’s different.”
“Is it?”
A cold wind blew through the room, snuffing out its only lamp. Hana gasped and scrambled to stand. “We need to leave,” she said, gathering her things. “They have found us.”
—
Keishin climbed over the minshuku’s window and landed on the grass next to Hana. A rock stabbed his palm. Keishin bit down a yelp and swiftly scanned the town’s dark streets. “I remember passing by a well on our way here. I think it was in that direction.” He pointed to the left of the house. “Can we use it to get away?”
“Yes,” Hana said. “Now, run.”
—
The second to worst part about traveling through a well was falling into it. The worst was trying not to scream.
