Chapter 8

Kaede, having tried and failed to fall back asleep after her sudden awakening, had grabbed the box containing her recently purchased dizi. Gakuto was snoring peacefully, as she tiptoed around him before proceeding out to the main deck of the ferry.

The full moon was high above them in the sky as she closed her eyes in the cool seabreeze, a few of the other passengers milling about the deck at this late hour. Once the panic had dissipated, or at least mostly had, Kaede was filled with excitement about being on a ferry for the first time. She had eavesdropped on an adult telling a child about how the ferry could travel by night and learned that some of the crew were magicians who propelled the large vessel by moving the water in front and behind the ship.

The reason it could safely travel by night was thanks in large part to the permanent full moon’s light but also with some special magical lanterns that kept the ship fully illuminated for those on board as well as against the backdrop of the darkened sea. The various sea beasts that dwelled beneath the surface shied away from the light and, with the crew employed magicians controlling the currents, they were savvy enough to not approach a vessel floating along.

Kaede was leaning against the railing, staring out at the darkened waves, trying to mentally prepare herself for the scolding that she was in for when they got back. The ferry was scheduled to port at the island around dawn, so they’d just have to wait until they turned the ferry around to head back sometime later in the day.

She sighed, laying her head against her arms before a small smile crossed her lips. Gakuto had found one of the workers and demanded they turn the ferry around, showing his credentials as a member of the palace. It was quite amusing to see him so flustered and panicked. Kaede had been trying to maintain a façade of calm, but internally she was even more upset than Gakuto.

Pulling back from the rail and stretching, her yukata sleeves flapping in the wind, she picked up the box and made her way up to the upper deck. There were even less people scattered about up here, which Kaede understood shivering as the seabreeze was much chillier up here. She found a small corner that mostly protected her from the breeze before opening the box and pulling out the bamboo flute.

Now that she looked at it more clearly, with the bright moon looming overhead, the dizi was painted in a vibrant brown lacquer, with wood rings looped around the bamboo, reinforcing the finger holes. There was a small mural just above where she’d place her mouth, that looked like the night sky, complete with stars. Curiously, it showed a pair of black circles, along with a pair of white half circles sandwiching a white circle.

Kaede knew the white circle must represent the moon, but the paired circles and split circles were unfamiliar to her. Regardless, the mural was incredibly detailed for the size, clearly the work of a master artisan. She ran her fingers over the length of the dizi gently, feeling the smoothness of the wood, before rolling it in her palm. A strip of violet stood out on this side, the original color of the bamboo left intact. With the wood bands that reinforced the flute in place, there were also clusters of leaves drawn along the unpainted line, making it look like a drawing of a bamboo stalk itself.

Kaede gently traced her fingertip along that line, her eyes appreciating the beauty and level of craftsmanship that went into the dizi. The caps, ferrules, on both ends were made from some form of animal horn, each piece formed around a gemstone. Jade for the ferrule near the far end of the flute and what could only be a sapphire on the ferrule near the opening where she’d put her mouth, the embouchure. They were polished, giving off a bright sheen in the moonlight and the horn pieces were painted to match the body of the flute.

The flute was just a little longer than the length from the tip of Kaede’s middle finger to her elbow, with enough holes to play a full octave. After rolling it in her palm a few more times, admiring the intricacies of the artisans that had created the instrument, she brought it up to her mouth gently. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she placed her fingers on the finger holes before pursing her lips and…

SCREEEEEEECHHHHHI

An ear-piercing squeak emerged from the instrument that even caused Kaede to wince as she pulled the flute from her lips. She glanced around, face flushing red but with the lack of people around, and the sea’s wind, no one else was subjected to her musical ineptitude.

Kaede’s skills with a brush and with the spoken word were quite good, being able to draw wonderful calligraphy and recite beautiful poems, including some of her own. So to was her ability to serve tea (sadou), arrange flowers (ikebana) and even the traditional dances (rhythm was never the problem).

Yet when it came to singing or playing an instrument?

Kaede was both tone deaf and lacked the dexterity with the traditional stringed instruments and, as evidenced by the unholy screeching on the dizi in her hands, the deftness of her fingers was lacking when it came to wind instruments.

She sighed, placing the beautiful instrument on her lap, shame and frustration rising within her. Her mother was skilled with every instrument she got into her hands, a true musical prodigy. A divine muse, some had said. From what she had heard about her grandmother, her voice was so beautiful that the Imperial court had feared the goddesses’ themselves were jealous.

Kaede glanced down at the dizi, full of melancholy. It was not for a lack of practice and the oiran very much wanted to create music, if not her mother or grandmother’s standards, but at least to the level of some of the other court ladies. She loved hearing the beautiful performances by the oiran and even the baritone singing that the guardsmen dropped when trying to impress the ladies-in-waiting, by showing more than just being musclebound warriors.

She gently rolled the instrument over in her lap softly, caressing the flute with the utmost care. “I’m sorry that you won’t be able to make a beautiful sound, with someone like me using you…”

“You should’ve apologized to it when you bought it, or maybe even left it for someone else who could actually play.” 

Gakuto’s voice startled her but her irritation came out before she could jump.

“Why are you always so rude, Gakkun!? I’m already feeling bad about it!”

Kaede was glaring daggers at him as he crouched down across from her, the hilt of his sword catching the moonlight. His arms were crossed as he glanced down at the dizi resting in her lap.

“I am sorry, divine wooden instrument, that you ended up in the hands of the most inept musician in the Emperor’s court!” Gakuto brought his hands together, in mock prayer as Kaede clenched her fist, her irritation turning to anger.

“Thankfully,” Kaede started through gritted teeth, “I am neither a musician nor yet a member of the Emperor’s court! Music is just one skill that oiran have, and I am quite adept at other arts, as you know!”

Gakuto nodded slightly, as Kaede defended herself. “That’s true. I have heard that the legendary Yumekawa Kaede can do a beautiful fan dance. There’s rumors that she can even write witty poetry that makes the Imperial scholars impressed with her ability to paint with words.” He grinned, looking directly in her eyes.

“Now if only she could carry a tune better than the smallest serving girl carries wa-AHHH”

His voice turned into a yelp of pain as Kaede had kicked his shin as hard as she could, upon standing. The instrument that led to her teasing was clenched in her fist and you could almost see the silhouette of the god of punishment behind her as she stood over his pained form, Gakuto tenderly rubbing where she had kicked.

“You’re a jerk, Gakkun!” Kaede said, pouting as she turned away from him.

“That’s a much better expression for you than that melancholic one.” Gakuto stood to his full height, still wincing from the stinging in his leg. “When I woke up and saw you weren’t around, I figured you were sulking somewhere, dreading what your mother is going to say about this.”

Kaede sighed, turning back to face him. “I am dreading that, but there’s no point dwelling on it. The damage is done, after all.” She leaned back against the wall, staring up at the moon, which was now close to the horizon. “But I can’t always be bothered by what mother says or does. Especially when I don’t know if she’s going to be angry as my mother or as Hinoki, the Jewel of the Back Palace…”

Gakuto rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, as he followed her gaze. “I guess, that’s fair… I’m not looking forward to the scolding and punishment I’m going to get from old man Jiro…”

Kaede winced slightly, feeling guilty. She was only now realizing who else was going to have some problems.

“Mother has probably already given Sumire and Jiro a good dressing down…”

“Probably...”

Gakuto sighed, leaning against the wall beside Kaede. She was looking over the flute in her palm almost absent-mindedly, her fingers tracing over the surface of the bamboo with grace.

“Look… Kaede, I’ll take the blame for this.”

Hearing that, her mind snapped back to the conversation and she shook her head. “No you won’t! It was my insistence to chase after that girl. It was also my thoughtlessness that landed us on this ferry. You’re not taking any of the blame, Gakuto.”

Gakuto wasn’t surprised by that answer. Kaede definitely knew her position and the burden that came with it, that even if he did take the blame, she would still suffer the consequences. In her mind, it was better to take full responsibility and accept what comes than let someone else take on the burden.

“I knew you’d say that.” He sighed, sliding down against the wall. A soft clink was heard, the bundle that got them into this situation, tied around his waist. “What do you think is in there?”

“Bells, from the sound.” Kaede said, turning the dizi over in her hand once more, before peering more closely at the bamboo imprint on the back. Neither of them had opened the bundle, both from being distracted by the situation they found themselves in and it belonging to someone else.

Kaede’s eyes narrowed as she brought the flute closer to her eyes, trying to have it catch more of the moonlight. She had been rolling it over in her hands for a while, taking in every detail of the workmanship, but she hadn’t noticed that there were more intricate details to the bamboo stalk mural.

“Kaede?” Gakuto asked, looking up at her focused gaze as she gripped the bottom of the flute and turned it slowly in her hand, her eyes running along the edge of the unpainted section of the dizi. She crouched down, thrusting it into his face, her finger pointing at the outer edge of one of the intricately drawn leaves.

“Do you see an inscription here?”

Gakuto, having leaned back when the flute was shoved in his face, narrowed his eyes, trying to see what she was talking about. “I’m not sure… maybe…”

Kaede pulled it back to her eyes, her brow furrowed as she brought it as close to her eyes as possible.

“Port of Tsuiraku! We’re making our approach to the port of Tsuiraku!”

A voice bellowed from the lower deck, breaking Kaede out of her daze as Gakuto stood up and stretched, looking towards the front of the ship. An island with a semi-tall mountain peak rose out of the sea as the stirring buzz of passengers started to gather their belongings for disembarking.

“Guess you’ll have plenty of time to examine it on the ride back.” Gakuto said, as Kaede scowled, tucking the flute back into its box and following him down to the lower deck.