Sen turned to Lee, who stood frozen beside her, his gaze fixed on the approaching wave. She dropped her gaze to his hand, which was still clenched tightly around her arm. As the roar of the sea grew louder, she tore her arm away.
Light and sound slammed down over them, and they both flinched at the sudden brightness. The smell of wet soil and summer returned, the warmth of the sun on their faces, the softness of earth beneath them. Sen whirled to face the town that was once again a town, the horizon quiet and white, the ground firm and unmoving beneath her. She turned back to Lee, who was gaping at her like she was a world all by herself.
What are you?Sen thought, unable to move.What are we?
“I think we shouldn’t touch,” Sen said at last.
Lee examined the palm of the hand he’d used to touch her. When it seemed he saw nothing unusual, he sighed and droppedhis hand. “I told you that you were a bridge,” he said. “I don’t know how. But I’ll find out.”
There it was again—that tone that made his words sound like a blood oath.I’ll find out.He glanced unsubtly at Sen’s arm, like he wanted to touch her again, tsunami be damned.
“Not until I get what I came here for,” Sen said, crossing her arms.
Lee looked up, brow creasing as if displeased. His gaze flickered across her, and Sen suddenly felt like she was buried in the ground again, beetles crawling all over her bare skin. But whatever Lee was thinking, he decided not to say it out loud.
“Fine,” he said, turning around and continuing down the road. Sen hurried after him, glancing over her shoulder at the horizon, the ocean still echoing in her ears.
They reached the town hall, which seemed like a palace compared to any government building Sen had seen in her time. The white stone floors gleamed like a sheet of ice, and their footsteps echoed up to the tall, arched ceilings. Electric lights buzzed overhead, the sound filling Sen’s head with bees. How could no one else hear it? How did it not drive them all mad?
Lee paused to glance at the signs on the walls, then turned to Sen, dropping his gaze as if embarrassed. “I don’t read Japanese very well,” he said quietly.
“I would be surprised if you could,” she said. Sen’s own mother couldn’t read, and neither could many of the women she’d met in her time, much less foreigners. She scanned the signs until she found one for the archive and led Lee to the left. They approached a smaller wing of the building and stepped into a dimly lit office.
“How can I help you?” said a woman in Western clothes behind a counter, looking to Sen rather than Lee.
Sen brushed past Lee, pulled out her wooden passport from her obi, and held it out to the woman.
“I’m looking for my family koseki,” she said.
To her surprise, the woman frowned at her passport and made no move to accept it. Her confused gaze drifted to Lee, who looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.
“Do you have any identification?” the woman said.
Sen frowned, waving the passport again. That had her family name—all the information that was needed to let her pass from town to town.
Lee let out a stiff laugh, and Sen watched as his expression changed. He shifted so easily into someone brighter, as if emerging from deep underwater. “She found that in her grandmother’s room,” he said, glancing at Sen’s wooden passport. “We came here for her grandmother’s funeral, but she lost her ID on the way. We were hoping this would be enough to get a copy while we’re here.”
“I can’t issue you a copy without an ID,” the woman behind the counter said. But her eyes caught on Sen’s passport. “May I?”
Sen passed it to her with both hands, and the woman held it up to the light. “Iwasaki Sen,” the woman read, running her fingers across the carving in wonder.
The secret name sounded strange on her lips. It was the surname Sen was born with, but the one she was never allowed to use. She was Sen of Shimazu, for she belonged to her lord.
Sen sensed Lee’s eyes on her. Surely he’d noticed that she’d hidden her real surname from him.
“I’ve never seen one of these in person,” the woman said at last. “It’s very well preserved.”
“She takes good care of her grandmother’s possessions,” Lee said. “They were very close.”
Sen stared at Lee, careful to keep her expression neutral. Helied like it was his first language. He could lie toherjust as easily. Perhaps he already had.
Luckily, Sen was a liar too.
She hung her head and let her hair fall over her eyes, her shoulders shaking slightly. “I’m sorry,” she said tearfully, turning away. “I’m so embarrassed. I came all the way here without my ID and wasted everyone’s time.”
“Oh, it’s not a problem!” the woman said quickly. “Please, don’t worry.”
Sen hid her grin behind her hair, feeling like the world was sliding in her favor once more. Lee Turner might have known a lot about the future, but Sen knew how to make people do what she wanted. She was a female samurai in an era where samurai weren’t even supposed to exist—of course her words had to be as sharp as her sword. Not every problem could be solved with blood.
