Chapter 11: Shadows of Envy

“Look, it’s Lord Seimei!”

“Where, where? I want to see!”

“Oh, there! Ugh, that’s Nanako, so sneaky, using her family’s status to talk to him.”

Riko followed the gazes. Seimei stood at the mansion’s entrance, his back to them, expression hidden. Nanako was animatedly gesturing.

“So that’s Nanako,” Riko muttered, feeling an odd pang of melancholy.

“Right, that’s Kamo Nanako, looking all high and mighty,” a voice beside her said. Riko turned to see a tall girl staring at Nanako with a mix of disdain and arrogance, her pretty face turning sharp.

The girl scoffed. “This happens every time we come for yin-yang lessons. Nanako’s flaunting her privilege.” She shifted her gaze to Riko. “You’re the new one, right? I’m Minamoto no Hatsuki.”

Riko gave an awkward, polite smile. I didn’t really want to meet you.

“Sit with me later. I’ll look out for you.”

That’s… not necessary.

The yin-yang arts class was held in a spacious hall. The Kamo estate was vast, so Riko didn’t see Seimei as easily as she’d hoped. The onmyouji training area was two courtyards away.

The instructor, Honma, a low-rank onmyouji, handed out blank talisman papers, announcing they’d learn to write illumination charms.

His tone dripped with sarcasm. “Those who couldn’t find their spiritual power last time can keep searching.”

The girls buzzed with complaints.

“Ugh, that condescending look again.”

“Low-rank’s such a big deal? Thinks teaching us is a waste?”

“Doesn’t want to teach but wants the pay. Honma wants it all.”

Honma’s face darkened, about to scold, when he spotted a girl at the door. His expression softened. “Nanako, come in.” No hint of reprimanding her tardiness.

Riko caught Hatsuki rolling her eyes.

Nanako rejoined her group, sparking whispers. “Did you ask? Did Lord Seimei agree?”

“He said he’s tutoring someone else, no time.”

“Huh? Not Hatsuki, right? So sneaky, we had the advantage.”

Hatsuki stiffened, then turned with a forced smile, flashing Nanako an orchid gesture. But when she faced Riko, her expression was grim.

“Charms are pre-prepared spells, convenient to carry. Waste as many papers as you want while practicing—perfect for shrine maidens,” Honma said.

He earned a wave of eye-rolls.

“The writing method’s on the wall. Try it. I’ll dim the lights later to test your charms. The worst performer stays after class for practice with me.”

The air filled with the scratch of writing. No one wanted to stay with Honma.

Riko inked her brush. Charms required one continuous stroke. She saw golden spiritual lines flow from her pen. She also saw Hatsuki’s lines break early, unnoticed as she kept writing.

“A successful charm flashes faintly,” Honma said, patrolling.

“So hard!” Hatsuki crumpled her tenth paper.

Others, frustrated, balled up their papers too.

Riko looked at her charm, successful on her second try, hesitated, and crumpled it quietly.

An hour later, only Hatsuki and Nanako had completed charms.

Honma dimmed the room with a spell. “Who’s first?”

“Me.” Hatsuki raised her hand confidently. Without waiting, she released her charm. It flew up, burning into a grape-sized glowing orb, softly illuminating.

“Good,” Honma nodded. “Solid for a first try. Nanako, go.”

Nanako cautiously released her charm. It formed an orange-sized orb, lighting a much larger area.

“Wow!” the girls exclaimed. “It’s way bigger than Hatsuki’s!”

“Excellent,” Honma smiled. “As expected of Lord Kamo’s daughter, a natural.”

“I just followed your instructions,” Nanako said, blushing.

Hatsuki’s face turned ashen. She grabbed Riko’s hand, raising it. “It’s not over. Here’s another.”

“Huh?” Riko glanced at her.

“Oh,” Honma said, unimpressed. “Try it then.” He turned back to Nanako’s orb, smiling. “You could also try this…”

Riko released her charm. With a whoosh, a melon-sized orb shot up, banishing the dark, lighting the room like the sun.

“Wow!” The girls’ cheers nearly lifted the roof.

“Silence!” Honma snapped. “Want to summon everyone?” He glanced at Riko, voice flat. “Not bad.”

“Not bad? Not bad?” Hatsuki gaped. “Honma, get your eyes checked after class.”

“Something’s odd,” Nanako said softly. “This level of charm usually requires a low-rank onmyouji. Even full shrine maidens rarely achieve it. And charms can be pre-written…”

“What’re you implying?” Hatsuki snapped. “That she had someone else write it?”

“No, no!” Nanako waved her hands. “It’s just… strange.”

Honma eyed Riko. “Anyone in your family study yin-yang arts?”

Riko almost laughed. “Can’t I just write another?”

“Right!” the girls said. “That’ll prove it.”

Riko took her pen, now practiced after an hour, and wrote smoothly.

The charm shot to the ceiling, burning fiercely, larger than before—a watermelon-sized orb raining light like dew. The girls erupted in louder cheers.

Nanako’s fingers trembled in her sleeves, but she forced a smile like the others. “Really amazing.” She looked at Hatsuki, teasing, “Your first place might be gone, Hatsuki-chan.”

Riko propped her cheeks, sighing faintly. Clique wars were such a hassle.

After class, since too many failed, Honma canceled extra practice.

The girls cheered.

“By the way, what’s your name?” Hatsuki asked, packing up.

“Shimizu Rikako.” Riko offered the jade fish.

Hatsuki paused, then laughed. “So it’s you! No wonder, haha.” She laughed harder.

Riko, seeing she wouldn’t take it, set the fish on the table. “What?”

“I boasted about getting Seimei to tutor my friends, and it became a nagging worry. Then rumors spread he agreed, making me fear exposure. Now it’s fine—my ‘close friend’ is tutored by him, so it’s like I am, so I didn’t lie!”

Riko, amused at being labeled a friend, thought Hatsuki’s standards were loose, especially after claiming her brother and Seimei were close.

“I’m leaving. Keep this.” Riko pushed the fish over.

“Nope, that’s my brother’s deal. See you tomorrow!” Hatsuki ran off, dodging the fish, nearly colliding at the door.

“Sorry!” she apologized, drawing eyes from those still in the hall.

“It’s Lord Seimei!”

“Here for Nanako?”

“Gotta be. Who else?”

Urging and giggles rose. Nanako’s cheeks flushed, her excitement swelling, but she packed slowly, feigning nonchalance.

“You’re so slow,” Seimei said, entering in a crisp white hunting robe.

The girls’ eyes turned heart-shaped.

Nanako didn’t look up, tucking hair behind her ear.

“Ink spilled,” Riko’s soft voice said. Nanako’s head snapped up, her friends equally stunned.

Hatsuki, lingering at the door, doubled over laughing.

“Oh, that so?” Seimei picked up a blank charm, drew casually, and it glowed, cleaning the desk instantly.

“That’s a cleaning spell. I’ll teach you later—useful,” Seimei said, packing Riko’s books into her bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “Let’s go. Two classes back-to-back? I came during the break, saw you writing diligently. What’d you learn?”

“Illumination spell,” Riko answered, following him out.

“I see,” a girl by Nanako said loudly, indignant. “You’re the one Seimei’s tutoring, no wonder your charm was so good.”

“That’s weird,” Hatsuki said, hands on hips. “You’re saying Nanako’s got Lord Kamo tutoring her. It’s like you’re accusing us of cheating.”

“Don’t say that,” Nanako said, shaking her head at her friend. “We shouldn’t assume.”

“I didn’t teach her charms,” Seimei said coolly. “Just a hand seal. Little Riko’s talent is all her own.”

Praised by the genius onmyouji, the girls’ gazes toward Riko shifted.

“Let’s go.” Seimei turned to Riko, smiling again.

“Brother Seimei,” Nanako chased after, eyeing Riko curiously. “Who’s she? A relative?”

“None of your business. Don’t pry,” Seimei said coldly.

“I-I was just curious,” Nanako said, eyes reddening.

“Curious about my family affairs too?” Seimei said flatly, ignoring her and pulling Riko out.

On the carriage, Seimei’s expression softened. “If anyone asks, say our families are old friends, and you’re staying with me.”

Riko nodded, hesitating. “Is it troublesome, bringing me back? I’ve been uneasy, accepting your kindness without anything to offer.”

“This is enough.” Seimei pulled a folded paper from his robe—the paper lightbulb she gave him. “You’ve repaid me.”

“Just paper,” Riko said, lowering her head glumly.

He gently patted her head. She looked up, his kind face filling her vision. “Since I picked you up, I won’t abandon you as trouble. I’m not experienced with kids and know there’ll be challenges. But I believe they’re surmountable. I just hope I don’t raise you too poorly.”

“Most importantly, don’t abandon yourself. You’re the only survivor of your village—a tragedy, but also a blessing. Live twice as well for it. I’ll help you.”

It was the longest speech Riko had heard from Seimei. Her gloom vanished, and she nodded vigorously, smiling.

Seimei leaned back in the carriage. “Besides, I’m the one gaining. With your paper-cutting talent, you might become Heian-kyo’s little monster.”

Riko nodded. “I’ll study harder to repay you.” She moved to put her bag behind her but froze.

“What’s wrong?” Seimei asked.

A red leaf was stuck to the carriage wall behind her. She peeled it off, revealing tiny writing.

Found you.