Yoshisato took another step toward him, as if irresistibly drawn, then stopped.
“I don’t want anyone else to hear this yet,” Yanagisawa said. “Not even your mother, who I’m sure has her ear to the wall.”
Reluctant, Yoshisato moved closer. Yanagisawa whispered into his ear.
As soon as Yanagisawa finished speaking, Yoshisato recoiled. Stunned wordless, he gaped at Yanagisawa.
“Well?” Yanagisawa said, gratified by his son’s reaction yet uncertain about what it boded. “Are you going to cooperate?”
Yoshisato sputtered, then asked, “Do you really mean to go through with this?”
“Can you think of a better idea?”
Shaking his head, in awe as well as in reply, Yoshisato chuckled. “I underestimated you, Father.”
“Many have.” Yanagisawa noticed that this was the first time Yoshisato had verbally accepted their kinship. It warmed his heart even though Yoshisato had spoken with grudging respect rather than fondness. “My plan depends on you. Are you with me or not?”
Yoshisato bit his lip and frowned. Yanagisawa could feel the pressure on him: This was the first adult decision he’d had to make. “I’m with you,” Yoshisato said with a smile that was half wry, half malicious. “What have I got to lose?”
When Sano returned home, he was so tired he thought that if he closed his eyes for too long when he blinked, he would fall asleep on his feet. If only he could keep moving, one foot after another, long enough to reach his bed before he collapsed.
The damaged mansion looked lonely and inhospitable amid the ruins of the barracks. With the crisscrossed beams that supported the veranda roof, the entrance resembled a giant cage. Shadowy forms of wild, restless animals moved behind the bars. More creatures roamed the surrounding darkness. Sano realized he was dreaming; he roused himself. While he plodded toward the building, the door opened. There stood a small figure. It was Akiko.
Sano’s heart lifted as he climbed the steps. Taking her hand, he said, “What are you doing up so late?”
“I wanted to see you.” Akiko hopped up and down on the veranda. Her feet were bare.
“Let’s go inside before your poor toes freeze.” Sano heard a clatter as something hit the floorboards near him, then running footsteps in the distance. He looked down and saw a lumpy object the size of a small melon. A yellow flame sizzled at one end.
“What’s that?” Akiko stooped to pick up the object.
A danger signal blared through Sano. He yanked Akiko away from the object and gave it a swift, hard kick off the veranda. It flew through the railings and exploded in midair.
Akiko screamed. The blast hit Sano like thunderclaps against his ears. He caught Akiko up and whirled her around to shield her from the hot, orange fireball that seared his eyes. The blast hurled him and Akiko against the house. He felt sharp, piercing sensations, like arrows striking his back, and Akiko’s screams vibrating through her body. The house shuddered. Blinded and dazed, Sano smelled fire, smoke, and sulfurous, acrid gunpowder; he heard creaking and rumbling noises. The supports holding up the roof were coming down. Timbers clubbed his back. Sano shielded Akiko with his body as he fell. A post struck his head with a tremendous bang, and everything went dark.
Shrill screaming awakened Sano. Brutal pain throbbed on the right side of his head. His whole body ached. Moaning, he opened his eyes. Grit stung them. Warm liquid flowed onto his face, which was pressed against the hard surface where he lay. He tried to move, but heavy weights across his back and limbs pinned him down. He knew something bad had happened, but he couldn’t remember what.
Underneath him, someone wriggled and screamed. Akiko. Memory resurged. The bomb. The explosion. Thank the gods she was alive!
Sano became conscious of urgent voices clamoring, Reiko frantically calling his name and their daughter’s. Lanterns bathed him in light. Weights lifted off him. Sano groaned, in relief because he could move his arms and legs. Unseen hands cleared away the beams, planks, and roof tiles that covered him and Akiko. She crawled out from under him, jumped up, and cried, “Mama!”
Reiko knelt beside him, hugging Akiko. Her face was terror-stricken as she bent, touched his face, and cried, “Speak to me!”
“I’m all right.” Dust caked Sano’s mouth. He knew Reiko must have been in the house during the explosion. “Are you?”
“Yes.” Reiko called to the guards who’d lifted the wreckage off Sano. “He’s bleeding! Fetch a doctor!”
“Akiko?” His first concern was for her.
“She’s fine,” Reiko said. “Not even a scratch on her, that I can see.”
Sano rolled onto his back. Pain stabbed him as if he lay on a bed of flints. The movement worsened the ache in his head, which pounded violently. He was so dizzy that he felt as if he were sliding sideways. Nausea assailed him. He could see the night sky: The roof over the veranda was gone. When he moved his eyes, the stars smeared white streaks across his vision. His stomach heaved. Turning his head away from Reiko and Akiko, he vomited.
Reiko made soothing noises, wiped his face. Detective Marume said, “Let’s bring him inside.” He carefully lifted Sano’s shoulders. A guard lifted his legs. They carried Sano into the building, which had survived the explosion. They lowered him onto the bed in the family’s chamber. Sano lay on his left side because his head didn’t hurt there and his back was too sore. Eyes closed, he listened to people tramping around outside and speculating about the explosion. The doctor arrived, spoke to Reiko, and made clattering noises with his equipment. Sano heard Akiko protest as Reiko handed her over to the nursemaid. As the doctor cleaned the wound on Sano’s shaved crown, Reiko murmured in consternation.
“This is a bad gash,” the doctor said. “It will require stitches.”
He held an ice pack over Sano’s scalp to numb it, then began sewing. Sano clenched his teeth against the pricks of the needle and the tugging of the thread. Then the doctor set to work on Sano’s back. He picked out particles that the blast had driven into the flesh and washed the cuts. Sano winced at the sting of alcohol. After the doctor applied an herb poultice to the cuts and bandaged them, the dizziness and nausea abated enough for Sano to open his eyes. The doctor held his hand in front of them and said, “How many fingers do you see?”
Sano’s vision was blurry. “Two,” he guessed.
“Just as I suspected,” the doctor said. “You have a concussion.”
“What does that mean?” Reiko asked anxiously.
“His brain was jarred inside his skull.”
“Will he be all right?”
“Yes, if he rests in bed for a few days.” The doctor held a cup near Sano’s mouth and placed a bamboo straw between his lips. “Drink this. It will ease the pain and help you sleep.”
The sweet wine, astringent herbs, and bitter opium made Sano gag, but the pain soon dulled and drowsy warmth spread through his body.
“I’ll leave medicine for you to take later,” the doctor said before he left.
Masahiro came running into the room. “Father, are you all right?”
“Yes.” Sano felt weak and helpless. He hated to worry his family.
“Can you tell us what happened?” Reiko asked.
Sano described the events that had preceded the explosion. “It was a bomb. Someone threw it onto the veranda. I heard him running away.”
“I heard a loud bang,” Reiko said. “I thought it was a gun.”
“So did I,” Masahiro said. “I heard it in the shogun’s house.”
Detective Marume entered the room. “I found these in the wreckage.” He held out his hand. On his palm were small, curved, sharp ceramic fragments-the remains of the bomb, the container that had been filled with gunpowder.
Another memory surfaced in Sano’s mind. “I felt something lurking outside. It must have been the person who threw the bomb. But I thought I was dreaming. I was so tired.”