A Difficult Preparation

“Trials of court tend to last at least four days. Major ones can take up to a month of raw debate. The verdict usually takes a similar amount of time to hash out, during which time the prosecution and defendant are isolated from each other. Both parties are usually extremely incensed by the end.”

—Roo Benz

I scratch the back of my neck. “I thought the clothes you gave us would be good enough for court?”

Roo scowls at me and hisses, “Absolutely not. If you pulled up to court wearing that, if I were the adjudicator, I would instantly hate you. Where’s the class? The professionalism?”

“I mean, I guess?” I splutter. Mirei haphazardly pulls up her sock that hangs lower than the other.

Roo quickly brings us back to his room. There, he dives into his wardrobe and sorts through all kinds of fancy garb, ranging from silk suit jackets to sheer gloves. I even catch sight of a magnificent crown embellished with precious gems and gilded leaves.

As Roo mutters to himself, an occasional clothing item will fling out and smack right into my face.

“Don’t wrinkle it, just hold it for now,” He orders, not conceding a glance at me. I sigh and lay the navy blue footed leggings gently on his bed. I stare at them, fascinated by the embroidery on it. Ivory leaves sprout from the hem and curl down one of the pant legs, shimmering slightly. If they weren’t leggings, I would tell Roo that I would wear them.

It takes several more minutes, but eventually Roo and I piece together an outfit befitting of a noble. Mirei gawks at the clothes wrapping intricately around me.

“It looks like traditional Japanese clothing,” She remarks. I nod, agreeing with her fully.

A pair of sky blue silk trousers hang from my waist, tied by a white ribbon. They brush against the white tabi socks, revealing glimpses of embroidered water lilies. Delicate flowers of fantastical varieties bloom at my wrists, neck, and waist where the top hugs my upper body. It is made of a sheer, featherlight material that is the color of the moon. Cotton white gloves cover my hands, bringing me great relief. I won’t have to worry about touching someone on accident. When Roo slides a haori over my shoulders, Mirei and I gasp.

Cool aqua darkens to ocean blue at the hems, speckled with silver stars that shimmer beneath the floating crystals’ light. The fabric is so thin that it feels like cascading water on my shoulders and not silk. Roo spins me around and beckons Mirei to drag a mirror over. She does so quickly, telling me how marvelous the haori looks in the back. My heart quivers with anticipation.

Once she scoots it close enough, I steal a glimpse behind me.

“Wow,” I sigh, completely in awe. An ivory moon the size of my fist is sewn in the center. Swathes of colorful flower petals spiral around the moon before morphing into stars.

“The flowers on this outfit have a special meaning.” Roo’s voice rumbles somewhat close to my ear. I see him in the mirror, standing in front of me, heard tilted just enough that he can see the mirror behind me.

I hum in question. “What is it?”

“They are all varieties of flower that bloom only at night. While other vegetation relies on the sun, these types drink up moonlight. It reminded me of the night you appeared.”

I turn my head back around, looking at Roo head-on. Nothing about his face belies any warmth. There’s no warmth, but there’s a soft sadness hiding behind those green eyes. I can’t look away.

“I have known you for close to three days. You should know that I don’t particularly care for your fate, as we hardly know each other.”

My hands clench my trousers. “Fair enough.”

“Even more important is the fact that I am Roo Benz, son of Chief Pons Benz.”

Mirei and I maintain our silence, waiting for what Roo intends to say next. Dread coils in the pit of my stomach.

“I will not take your side or the prosecution’s. My position demands it.”

His voice is a soft murmur, a wisp of words that beget gloom and pity. I close my eyes to hide from the solemn line of Roo’s mouth. Why, I wonder, do I both crave and despise the truth? Roo and I are strangers. In my head, I prefer it this way. I welcome the solitude because this way, my pain can stay my own, and no one else will feel the need to shoulder it beside me. If I lose this trial, if my punishment is death or worse, at least no one will mourn me. Roo’s heart will stay light, free of the dark memory of my face. I know how much he cherishes his freedom. I can’t take that from him.

So I will win. I’ll leave this country as soon as the verdict is announced and bring Mirei with me. We’ll find a way to return to Japan and, in the meantime, live peacefully in a small rural town or in the wilds.

“I understand, Roo,” I tell him.

“I don’t.”

I turn around fully, staring at Mirei, dumbfounded. She crosses her arms, frustration written all over her face.

“Just because you're the chief’s son doesn’t mean you can’t have an opinion,” She scowls.

Roo shakes his head. His words come out strained. “We don’t have time to talk about this. We still have to get your clothes. Follow me—“

“No! Quit being a wuss!”

My jaw drops. “Mirei, apologize right now!”

Roo glances at her sidelong, caught in the motion of turning away to walk toward his room’s doors. She shakes her head furiously. “Brother, I’m not wrong. This guy shows us around town, protects us from wild beasts, clothes us, feeds us, introduces us to his friends—“

“—Arenah is not my friend—“

“—and yet, he dares to say we’re strangers to him? What a jerk!” Tears start falling freely down her red cheeks and snot dribbles out of her nose. I rush toward her, trying to placate her.

“Roo is doing the best he can,” I say, clasping my little sister’s shoulders. Roo shifts uncomfortably a few paces away from me. “It’s time for us to do our best too. Remember how much you wanted to win today? Let’s go and obliterate the prosecution!”

Mirei spits out between aborted sobs, “I don’t care!”

Huuuuh? Mirei was so fired up just a few hours ago! How can she say she doesn’t care anymore? She cries in my arms, inconsolable. I shoot daggers at the culprit behind me.

“Roo, why did you have to say that?!”

“I…” His hands repeatedly ball into fists and then relax. His shoulders have hiked up all the way to his ears, which are lowered in shame.

“Just go and get her clothes. I’ll deal with it,” I say, sighing.

Roo stays in his spot for a few more hesitant moments, lowers his eyes to the ground, and then turns away. He trudges outside and gently closes the double doors behind him.

I watch him go and then look back at Mirei. Her hands cover her face, muffling her cries. I crouch down onto both my knees, haori brushing the jade floor. I wrap my arms around her shoulders. Her head immediately falls onto my collarbone.

We rock side to side for many minutes. It’s not just for her sake, but also for mine. Her pain may as well be mine. For as long as I can remember, whether it was Mom, Dad, or Mirei, if anyone was upset, I cried too. Before my illness, my teachers would always praise me for my empathy towards others. I never really felt good about it though because it was exhausting for me. I would get called a crybaby, sensitive, or weird by my classmates.

At least I never saw those brats again.

Finally, Mirei calms down. She straightens back up and rubs her face with her shirt. I glance down at my haori and breathe a sigh of relief— there’s only a penny-sized wet mark. Mirei’s hands must have caught the majority of her tears and snot.

“Are you better now?” I ask tentatively.

Mirei sniffles one last time before muttering, “Yeah.”

“We’ll talk it out with Roo after the trial, okay? I know you’re upset with him, and I am too, but we’ve got bigger things to handle now.”

“Whatever.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Okay?” I repeat.

“Okay.” She huffs and stomps away in a random direction, her eyes slightly puffy from all the crying. It takes her close to the doors, which slam open.

Roo carries a pile of green and cream colored fabric in his arms. “I have Mirei’s outfit—“ He shrieks when his eyes land on Mirei less than a foot away from him. He didn’t see her standing so close.

He blinks quickly and then shuffles away, slowly. My eyes bulge and I burst out in a fit of laughter so powerful that it forces me to the ground.

“What was that sound?” I cackle, clutching my stomach. “You screamed like a girl!”

“Shut up!” Roo splutters.

Mirei laughs even louder. “Girl-scream! Girl-scream!”

“Do you want the adjudicators to hate you? Because I will walk out right now and take this dress with me if you guys don’t quit it!”

Our laughter dies out quickly.

Roo sighs heavily before jerking his chin toward my direction. “Let’s go back by the mirror, Mirei.”

She shrugs her shoulders and makes her merry way to the mirror. Her mood swings make sense with her age, but it gives me whiplash every time. I get up and sit on the edge of Roo’s bed. Once he gets close enough, he catches sight of the wet spot and scowls. I rub at the mark and look away, avoiding the accusation in his gaze. He doesn’t say anything about it though, probably realizing it’s from Mirei’s tears. Tears that were caused by his words.

He looks away and displays the dress in his arms, letting Mirei get an eye full of the intricately designed silk. She sighs dramatically before allowing Roo to help her in it. It’s a long process of uncomfortable “ouch’s” and demands to hurry up. I sit comfortably, watching with amusement the way Roo is deft and gentle with his ministrations. He likes to pretend he doesn’t care, but his actions betray him in the way he loosens the dress’s laced backing when Mirei wheezes or when he readjusts the long, tight sleeves when she itches at her wrists.