“I can see the value of their service. Climbing the ladder without carrying anything was hard enough,” Keishin said.
Hana approached a group of porters playing a game of dice on a floating wooden dock. “Good evening,” she said, bowing.
They looked up from their game, stood up, and bowed back. “Good evening,” the porter standing closest to Hana said. One hundred oceans shimmered in the moonlight from two strands of blue pearls dangling from her neck. “Do you need assistance with your purchases? I am Nakajima Natsuki, the head porter here.”
“We were hoping that you could help us with another matter, Nakajima-san,” Hana said.
“Oh?” Natsuki tilted her head. “What sort of matter?”
“We heard a rumor that—”
“Ah. A rumor.” Natsuki smirked. “Our other service.”
The group laughed.
“Which rumor have you heard?” Natsuki planted her hands on her hips. “There are many.”
“The one about the children who aren’t children,” Keishin said. “Have you heard of it?”
“Of course,” Natsuki said, looking offended. “We hear everything.”
“What can you tell us about it?” Hana asked.
“We can tell you a lot of things,” Natsuki said, “about many things.”
“But you need compensation,” Hana said.
“No, not at all.” Natsuki shook her head. “All information we provide is free. We only ask that you play a game with us in return.”
“A game with a wager, I presume,” Keishin said.
More porters gathered around Keishin and Hana, an excited murmur buzzing among them.
Natsuki smiled. “A game without anything at stake isn’t worth playing.”
“What game do we need to play, and what kind of wager must we make?” Keishin asked.
“The game is simple. Dice. It is what we will be betting that will make it interesting. Here, we play for memories.”
“Memories?” Keishin said.
“Do not worry. We have no interest in recollections of anyone’s painful past. We have enough of our own. All we ask for is a chance to share in your joys. We were born in this market and we will die here. We know of no other life. The glimpses we catch of the world beneath the clouds when we deliver our clients’ purchases only make returning to the market harder. Naturally, you will keep the original memory, but the copy will be ours to do with as we please.”
“You want a happy memory,” Hana said.
“The last time your entire body smiled. As you know, extracting a kioku pearl can be…messy. We do not want you to have to dig deeper than necessary. Healing is expensive, and this, after all, is simply a bit of fun to keep my men entertained.” Natsuki twirled her necklace around her finger. “Shall we play?”
Entertained.The word gnawed at Keishin’s gut. His last memory of happiness was in Hana’s arms, and he suspected that Hana’s last memory was just as intimate. It didn’t matter which one of them played against the porters. The idea of Hana being anyone’s entertainment, on display for all to see, made vomit and rage rise up his throat. He clenched his fists at his sides. “No.”
“As you wish.” Natsuki returned to her dice game.
“Kei.” Hana gripped his arm. “We do not have a choice. We have to play.”
“If we lose…”
Hana strode up to Natsuki. “We will do it. We will play.”
Natsuki smiled and waved at a stocky porter standing next to stacks of empty baskets. “Daichi! Fetch the box.”
