Chapter 16: Cherry Blossoms and Divine Whispers
Suzaku brought out two bowls of red bean-filled mochi dumplings made from sticky rice, a recipe taught by Riko.
The method was similar to the soldier’s ration balls that samurai loved, both made from sticky rice. The difference was one was steamed, the other boiled in water.
Suzaku added a few cherry blossom buds, making the white, round dumplings look utterly adorable.
“What did you hear?” Seimei asked.
Riko, still a bit dazed, stared blankly at the bowl’s contents, then said after a moment, “Cherry blossoms, eat.”
Seimei froze slightly, placing a hand on her forehead, then sighed in relief. “Good, no fever. It doesn’t seem too serious.” He instructed Suzaku to fetch a bowl of mint water. When it arrived, he scooped a spoonful and held it to Riko’s lips. “Open your mouth.”
Riko slowly parted her rosy lips, still in a daze.
“Good girl.” Seimei’s lips curved slightly as he fed her the mint water. Then, dipping his finger in the liquid, he quickly drew a pattern on her forehead.
The pattern shimmered faintly, and Riko felt something surge from her head to her toes, clearing her vision in an instant.
“Awake now?”
Her pupils reflected Seimei’s arm resting on the low table, his eyes carrying a hint of amusement.
“Yeah.” Riko frowned, touching her stomach. “It’s weird, I feel all cool inside.”
“I gave you mint water.”
“Huh?” Riko’s eyes widened slightly. For some reason, his perfectly ordinary words made her ears flush.
“When shrine maidens listen to divine oracles, the mental strain often leaves them dazed. Mint water helps clear the mind a bit. But you’re different—you passed out completely. What did you hear?”
Riko thought back. “First, I heard the Spring God and the Moon God discussing making the cherry blossoms bloom tomorrow. They wanted to eat cherry mochi.”
“No wonder,” Seimei nodded. “When I asked you earlier, you said ‘cherry blossoms’ and ‘eat.’ Then what?”
“Then I heard Ebisu’s voice, praising himself for being amazing.”
“So, you heard gods conversing.” Seimei’s eyes flickered with disbelief. “Even the High Priestess can’t do that. She can only listen to one-sided oracles. And gods can sense who’s listening to them. But the gods you heard didn’t seem to notice you.”
“Was it fake?” Riko wasn’t sure herself.
“We’ll know tomorrow. If these unripe buds really bloom overnight,” Seimei turned to gaze at the cherry tree in the courtyard, “then we’ll need to rethink this. Absolutely, no one must know.”
“Why?”
“Think about it. If I were a god, I’d be worried about you overhearing my private conversations, wouldn’t I?”
“Oh, that makes sense.” Riko’s face paled.
“But existence has its reasons. This might be an incredible opportunity. No need to worry too much—just use it wisely. Anything else?”
Hearing Seimei’s words, Riko relaxed a bit. “There was also a noisy voice. A woman kept asking if I could hear her. I answered her in a daze, and then the voice vanished.”
“You answered her, and the voice disappeared?”
Riko nodded. “That’s right.”
“It sounds like an evil spirit.” Seimei’s fingers tapped the table unconsciously as he pondered. “Don’t respond next time. If you can hear them, they might hear you too. In the future, set up a barrier before doing this.”
Riko nodded again.
“Alright, the dumplings are getting cold. Eat up and get some rest.” Seimei stirred the dumplings with a spoon, watching the small balls swirl. He scooped one into his mouth, grimacing as he swallowed.
Is it that bad? Riko wondered, taking a bite. The sweetness made her eyes curve with delight.
Seimei ate only one before setting his spoon down, watching her.
He doesn’t seem to like sweets, Riko thought, eagerly shoveling more dumplings into her mouth.
Seimei’s lips twitched upward. “It’s late—don’t eat too many sweets.” With that, he stood and headed toward the side door.
Riko turned to watch him, knowing he was returning to his room. Their rooms were connected by a short wooden bridge. If both side doors were open, she could see straight into his room. Being so close made her feel safe, an unparalleled sense of security.
The night deepened quickly, and in her sleep, Riko faintly heard a rustling sound. In her dream, it became rain. In the pouring rain, Seimei sat in his room, eating from a huge pot of dumplings while she watched, drooling.
Seimei chuckled softly. ‘Want some? I’ll feed you.’ Unlike reality, his dream voice carried a teasing edge. Blushing, she nodded and ate dumplings all night long.
In the morning, Riko woke clutching her blanket, thinking helplessly, What a shameful, gluttonous dream.
After dressing and washing up, she slid open the door.
Sunlight bathed the courtyard gently. Seimei, dressed in white hunting robes, tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes glinting with flecks of light. Beside him stood a cherry tree in full bloom. The vibrant Kawazu cherries swayed in the breeze like a glamorous courtesan next to the young man.
“They… really bloomed,” she murmured.
Seimei turned at her voice, smiling. “Looks like it’s true. Our household has produced an extraordinary young lady.”
Beaming at his praise, Riko ran over. “I’m that amazing? Any rewards?”
“Hold out your hand.” His clear, crisp voice held a trace of fondness he didn’t even notice.
“What, huh?” A patterned bag tied with a five-leaf pine branch landed in her palm. Inside were amber-glowing pine nut candies.
“Don’t eat too many sweets, and not at night,” he gently admonished.
The cherry blossoms’ overnight bloom shocked Heian-kyo. Nobles speculated it heralded a joyous event, rushing to congratulate the Emperor, who happily attributed it to his new consort, Tamamo-no-Mae.
At Ise Shrine, the instructor seized the cherry blossom buzz to have students practice divination, seeking the reason for the early bloom. Most answers predicted joyous events. Only Riko wrote that the gods wanted cherry mochi.
“Shimizu, your answer is utterly careless,” the stern instructor scolded, tapping the paper. “Copy the divination book three times.”
Riko pouted, feeling wronged. “Can’t cherry blossoms bloom for that reason?”
“Absurd,” the instructor snapped. “Gods are far too busy for that. You think they’re like you, greedy little girls? Two more copies.”
Riko didn’t dare argue, fleeing with a whimper.
What a harsh, unreasonable person.
The High Priestess, passing by, curiously asked the instructor.
“Look, I asked them to divine the reason for the bloom, and she said the gods wanted cherry mochi,” the instructor said, handing over the paper.
The High Priestess looked astonished. “Today, Lord Kamo divined the same reason. The Emperor even ordered the finest cherry mochi offered to the Spring and Moon Shrines.”
The instructor’s eyes widened in shock. “That’s really the reason?”
The High Priestess smiled gently. “You misjudged that girl.”
“How is that possible? Only a great onmyoji like Lord Kamo could divine that. A trainee shrine maiden…” The instructor believed the divination but not Riko’s skill.
“It seems Ise Shrine has a remarkably gifted maiden. What’s her name?”
“Shimizu Rikako.”
“Shimizu Rikako? Isn’t that the girl who defeated a demon?” The High Priestess beamed. “What an extraordinary young lady.”
Unaware of this, Riko returned home teary-eyed, too upset to eat, and began copying the book.
Seimei returned early that day, hearing Riko was writing furiously. He packed a meal box with food and went to see her.
“Lord Seimei, don’t mind me. I have to finish this.”
Seimei sat under the cherry tree, asking Suzaku to hang paper lanterns. He set up a low table with eel rice balls, pickled octopus, small sweets, and sweet sake.
“Did the instructor punish you today?” Seimei asked, pouring plum sake into a cup. The low-alcohol drink, sweet like juice, was common among Heian nobles from their teens.
“How did you know?”
“The overnight bloom is big news in Heian-kyo. The instructor must have made you divine its cause. You wrote the truth and got punished.”
“Exactly!” Riko scribbled furiously without looking up.
“Come eat, and I’ll help you figure something out,” Seimei said with a soft chuckle.
“Really?”
“Yep. After eating, I’ll take you to see Heian-kyo’s night cherries.”
“I’m coming!” Riko dropped her brush and scampered to sit across from him.
After dinner, Seimei’s solution was to have his two shikigami copy the book for her.
“Won’t the handwriting be different?” Riko asked worriedly as they walked along Nijo Avenue.
“No, they’re quite experienced at this,” Seimei said casually.
Experienced? Did they copy for Lord Seimei before?
Near Nijo Avenue flowed the Takase River, lined with Yoshino cherry trees. Countless pink-white blossoms glowed at night, surrounded by orange lanterns, creating a dreamy, splendid scene.
The crowd was thick, with food stalls lining the river. Girls in kimonos holding paper umbrellas laughed and lingered.
Riko glanced at them briefly, then realized she’d lost Seimei.
Panicking, she looked around. A skewer of sticky rice balls appeared before her.
“Here.” Seimei’s clear, crisp voice rang out.
His slender fingers, with distinct knuckles, were strikingly elegant. He stood so close she could see his raven-feather lashes.
Riko froze. Seimei pressed the skewer into her hand, his face breaking into a bright smile. “I went to buy you some balls. Didn’t you glance at the food stalls? I thought you wanted some.”
“Actually, I was looking at the pretty girls,” Riko mumbled.
“Oh?” Seimei glanced at the girls, then said earnestly, “I still think Little Riko is prettier.”