The porter nodded and ducked behind the baskets. He retrieved a small wooden box and hurried to Natsuki with it tucked under his arm.
“Thank you.” Natsuki took the box from him. She turned to Hana and Keishin and opened the box, revealing a marbled clay wine jug and a black-handled deba knife, a blade used for filleting fish. Beside the knife were a fishhook and a spool of fishing twine. “Have you decided which one of you will play and which one of you will carve out the player’s stone? We need to have all wagers up front.”
Keishin shot Hana a glance.“Carve out?”
Hana drew Keishin away from the assembled porters and lowered her voice. “The wine will form the pearl inside whoever drinks it. The pearl can form in different parts of the body, depending on where the memory is kept. Some memories live in the stomach, some just beneath the skin. Some memories are rooted deeper. I have heard of pearls growing inside bones. But do not concern yourself with this. I will play against the porters.”
“No,” Keishin said. “I will.”
“Kei—”
“This isn’t up for argument, Hana. If there is anyone who needs to be cut open or whose bone needs to be carved out, it should be me.”
“Why?”
“Because there is no scenario where I could ever bring myself to cause you more pain than you are already suffering. I can’t. I won’t. Now, please hand me the wine so we can be done with this.”
—
The wine warmed Keishin’s throat and belly. Natsuki had said that he needed only one swig, but Keishin took two. His first swig was to make the memory stone. His second was to numb the pain of being sliced open with a fish knife. While he trusted Hana, he did not trust himself not to scream.
Keishin set the wine jug aside and lay down on a woven mat a porter had laid over a cloud. Another porter brought over two lanterns for extra light. Keishin stared into one of the lanterns’ flames, wondering if he would feel the pearl form inside him. A warmth stirred and grew on his wrist over a vein that led to his heart, in the exact spot the Horishi had tattooed Hana’s name. Keishin rubbed the spot and looked up at Hana. “It’s here. I can feel it.”
Hana poured wine over the deba’s blade. “Don’t worry. I will be quick.”
Keishin positioned a broken basket handle between his teeth and closed his eyes.
Hana moved a lantern closer to Keishin’s arm. She drew a deep breath and ran the blade over Keishin’s skin.
Keishin flinched.
“I see the pearl,” Hana said. “But I will have to cut a little deeper to free it.”
Keishin bit down on the basket handle, refusing to provide the porters with additional entertainment. Sweat dripped from his brow.
“I have it,” Hana said, pulling out the pearl.
Keishin spat out the handle and exhaled.
“Kei?”
“Yes?”
Hana threaded the fishing twine through a small hook. “Ithink you should keep that handle in your mouth for a little while longer.”
Keishin clenched his teeth over the handle and squeezed his eyes shut, retreating into the warmth and shadows of his favorite Indonesian restaurant and an Almost Smile waiting for him at his usual table.
—
“What can I help you with this time?” Ramesh sipped his Bintang beer. “Are you still pretending not to be the least bit interested in that woman you met at the pawnshop?”
Keishin pulled out a chair and sat down. “I lost that battle.”
“You don’t seem too upset about it.” Ramesh set his beer on the table.
“I’m not.” Keishin smiled and took a bite of his satay.
“So why am I here? It looks like you’ve got everything under control.”
