Keiko's Charity

"What training did you receive?"

Kiyo stared at Keiko blankly.

"My husband promised food if you spoke up."

Kiyo laughed.

"He's a man of his word," Keiko insisted.

"I'm sure he is," Kiyo responded simply with a cynical expression.

"Well, I can see you are loyal to your master. Tomorrow we can try again, when the pain of hunger becomes more real."

Keiko wanted nothing more than to stay and chat with Kiyo. She was entranced by the mysterious figure. Moreover, the conversation satiated her hunger for company. This was the longest conversation she has had with a woman that wasn't a direct subordinate, or one of her husband's jealous concubines. Keiko was, in her own way, a prisoner in the Daimyo's castle, confined to its walls where her only remedy was her lonely walks in the gardens, where her thoughts often meandered into helplessness. Since the death of her child, and with her father and brother gone, she had been, though unspoken, derided by Tanenaga. By extension, she had been treated with silent pity by most of the rest of the castle's residents. It was only a matter of time before he divorced her. Perhaps when her languish and resentment became too much of a bore for Tanenaga, she would be discarded. Until then, she often found nothing to do but walk the castle halls as a ghost without purpose - a cursed prisoner.

That night, the Daimyo came to Keiko's chamber for sex. He did so about twice a week, when he became bored with his usual consort. Keiko, after all, was still the most beautiful and desirable woman in Erimo.

When he undressed Keiko, he did so carelessly. There was no foreplay. He turned her over and thrusted roughly from behind, and after he filled her with his come, he pushed her away unceremoniously. It was different before. He used to embrace her tenderly, and they would fall asleep in each other's arms.

Laying on her stomach, Keiko felt his come ooze intrusively down the inner crease of her thigh. Tanenaga lay, panting, beside her, staring up at the ceiling.

"I was told you visited the kunoichi today. What have you learned?"

Keiko turned over to lay on her back, pulling her blanket over her to cover her naked body from the sharp chill of the autumn night.

"Her name is Kiyo."

"What family?"

"I don't know."

Tanenaga grunted disapprovingly.

"She's from Goguryeo and spent her childhood in Kyoto."

"And why was she sent to kill me?"

"She wouldn't say."

Tanenaga got up and put on his kimono without speaking. As he walked away, Keiko asked, "does she get food tomorrow?"

Tanenaga laughed but did not answer.

The next morning. Keiko visited the kitchen before going to see Kiyo. When she asked the cook, he shook his head. "Tanenaga instructed me not to allow you to bring food to the prisoner."

She could have guessed as much. Keiko went to the prison cell with a cup of green tea.

With both hands wrapped around the cup, Kiyo sipped with a look of serenity on her face.

"You haven't earned food," Keiko stated.

"I know."

"Perhaps today will be different."

"Perhaps."

The iron chains jingled as Kiyo brought the cup to her mouth to sip. Keiko knelt beside Kiyo, hands in her lap, waiting calmly for her to finish her tea. When Kiyo put her cup down, Keiko spoke.

"Do you have a husband?"

"Yes."

"Children?"

"No."

"You're quite old for a wife without a child," Keiko commented. Kiyo smiled.

"We've tried. It never worked."

"Where did you get your scars?"

"Combat."

"I thought you were not a kunoichi."

"I'm not. My people are not many, and we have many enemies. Women are not spared from war. We're trained from a young age to fight."

"And what are you trained in?"

"Kyujutsu, jujutsu, katana, naginata..."

"That is quite a repertoire."

Kiyo nodded. "As is required for survival."

"Certainly, didn't help you escape the castle guards."

Kiyo stayed expressionless.

"...anyways, warriors from Goguryeo are renowned for their horse skills. Can you ride a horse?"

"I can ride quite well."

Though Keiko had practiced basic martial arts for self-defense, she couldn't imagine herself riding a horse. She pictured Kiyo in armor, riding on horseback with a spear in one hand and a bow on her back. How fascinating it was for her to hear this woman speak of skills that she could only imagine from the war stories brought home by the Erimo soldiers and samurai.

"That is thrilling," Keiko exclaimed. She could hardly contain her excitement. She cleared her throat and straightened her face and continued, "Now, tell me something that will earn you some food. Who sent you to kill my husband?"

Silence. Keiko sighed. A rooster crowed in the background.

Keiko pushed the bucket of water towards Kiyo. "Tomorrow then... meanwhile, make sure you drink."

Again, that night, Keiko told Tanenaga what Kiyo told her. And again, the next day, the cook shook his head.

On the third day, she washed Kiyo. Kiyo resisted at first, but in the face of Keiko's insistence, conceded to taking off her kimono. With hot water and a sponge, Keiko washed her. Kiyo's wounds had started to heal, but because she had not been fed, the process was slow. The bruise on her left eye had turned from a dark blue to a sickly purple yellow. Her face and her body appeared shallow due to the lack of food.

"Can you tell me about life in your village?" Keiko asked, as she scrubbed Kiyo's face with the sponge.

"Yes."

"Well go ahead," Keiko beckoned.

Kiyo sighed.

"It's a beautiful village. On the coast amongst cliffs and an ancient forest. We get our food from the sea. And we raise horses. Our horses are prized for their bravery. But for the most part, we keep to ourselves - much like Erimo."

"What's your village called?"

"You know I won't tell you that."

Keiko shrugged. "I'll keep trying."

Keiko squeezed the sponge in the steaming water and proceeded to run it across Kiyo's body.

"And your family? Can you tell me something about them?"

"My father is a great samurai and a master of the katana and naginata. He runs a school. Taught me everything I know in the martial arts. A tough man. But he cares about me. My mother is loving. And kind. The most patient woman you would ever meet. And quite mischievous. A quality I share with her."

Kiyo laughed as she reminisced. "I once stole a chicken from a neighbor. When I was little. I tried to hide it in the house, but the clucking gave me away. My dad was furious. He made me return the chicken and apologize to the neighbor, then spanked me for it. My mother asked if I gave the chicken a name. She found it funny and urged me to be more clever next time."

Keiko grinned at the story. "Where are they now?"

"Still there, I imagine. Still in the village. Still living the same life."

Seeing Kiyo's face draw into a pleasant look as she remembered her family made her happy. Kiyo, of course, wasn't a demon spirit possessed assassin. She was human. She was a woman that was once a playful little girl. To hear her tell of her parents, and her childhood made her think of her own mother and father, and her brother, and the happy childhood she once had.

"And what's your husband like?"

"My husband is...," Kiyo thought hard about what she should say. Pain crept into her face.

"I don't think have the heart to talk about my husband right now."

"I see."

"Sorry," Kiyo said.

"You don't have to talk about him," Keiko replied.

Keiko continued to scrub in silent diligence for a moment. She enjoyed washing the dirt and sweat from Kiyo's body.

"Why do you wash me?" Kiyo asked.

"Why not?" Keiko replied.

"...It doesn't make sense."

Keiko shrugged. "You're starting to smell. If we're going to be going on like this, I'd like to not have to smell you."

"I tried to kill your husband."

"If only I can get you food. Maybe you'd regain the strength to try again." Keiko started to laugh but then, realizing how serious she had said what she said, she held a hand to her mouth, her eyes widening in shock.

Keiko blushed and shook her head. "I shouldn't have said that. Not to you at the least."

"Don't worry, I won't tell your husband," Kiyo said with a slanted smile.

As she finished washing, Keiko wrapped Kiyo in a fresh kimono then tied her hair. When Keiko caught Kiyo's gaze, she gave a smile. Kiyo smiled back with warmth in her eyes.

"Do you not love him?"

"L-love...what do you mean?"

Kiyo raised an eyebrow. "I guess that answers my question."

Keiko huffed. "Of course, I don't love him," she said with a scowl. She looked at Kiyo again and her face softened, feeling suddenly, that she could finally confide her deeply held feelings. "I will never forgive him for what he did to my brother and father. They died because he was angry that his son died in childbirth. That was my punishment. Any ounce of love I had for him left my body with their deaths. But... I will be loyal. I am the Daimyo's wife. It's important that I'm loyal."

Kiyo appeared sympathetic to Keiko's anger.

"Thank you for being so kind to me," Kiyo said.

Unsmiling, and unblinking, she continued, "My name is Konoe Kiyo, I am an onna-bugeisha of my clan and owner of the naginata school in the town of Keito. I am the wife...," she paused to hold back her emotions, "...of the dead samurai Konoe Nobutada. He died on the road to Kyoto at the hand of your husband's assassins. I watched him die. I swore my revenge that day." Kiyo looked down to the floor with a tortured face. Tears welled up in her eyes. "I failed him."

Keiko gasped at this shocking revelation, clutching her chest where she felt she had just swallowed her heart.

With pain in her voice, Kiyo muttered, "...I have a favor to ask of you."

She glanced at Keiko's kimono, where her kaiken dagger was concealed.

"I am condemned for death or shame or both. Spare me from shame. Allow me to use your kaiken against myself. It will be quick and silent."

Keiko clutched the hilt of the kaiken in her hand and automatically and slowly started to unsheathe. But she couldn't do it. She couldn't hand the kaiken to Kiyo. She snapped it back in, then stood to walk towards the exit of the prison cell. Mid-stride, she stopped, her hand on the handle of the door. She glanced back at Kiyo, who looked both dignified and pitifully lonely in her simple kimono, sitting tall with her chest out, breathing calmly, her black hair tied up the way Keiko's mother had once tied it for Keiko. Her throat tightened as she became overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. It had been a long time since anyone had talked to her with such vulnerability. For it to come from her enemy was bewildering, but cathartic. She did not know how it was going to happen, but she decided that she could not let death be in Kiyo's immediate future.

"I will do everything in my power to get you back to your family. I can't let you die here, while they wait for you."

Kiyo shook her head. "Perhaps when you see the fruitlessness, you will give me your kaiken and let me die as only fitting an onna-bugeisha who has failed at her task. I tried to kill your damn husband."

Keiko nodded and left to go see the Daimyo.

When Keiko knocked on his door, she could hear muffled giggles of women. Tanenaga was having an afternoon romp with his concubines. He often did. Footsteps approached and the door slid open. Tanenaga stood in the doorway, naked.

"Yes, my beloved? Are you here to join?"

Keiko smiled weakly.

"As pleasant as that sounds, I have matters concerning the prisoner to discuss with you."

Tanenaga sighed, bored with the idea. He waited with staring eyes.

Keiko cleared her throat.

"The prisoner is Konoe Kiyo. She is the wife of samurai Konoe Nobutada of Keito."

Tanenaga raised his eyebrow. "And should I know who that is?"

Keiko had assumed he would know. How distasteful that her husband had already forgotten the name of the man he ordered the killing of. Flustered, she explained, "He's a samurai. She said you had him killed. She is not a trained assassin. She sought revenge."

Tanenaga's face furled in thought as he attempted to remember sending assassins to kill a samurai.

"Ah yes, I remember Nobutada. The bastard sold me unbroken war horses. Cost me a battle. He deserved his death. And his shame."

Anger crept into Keiko's blood. Her head grew hot. How embittering that he would show no care, when just a moment ago, Keiko watched as Kiyo wept for her husband, pleading for a quick end to her life.

One of the naked concubines sang out from bed, "Tanenaga, it's getting cold in here, come warm us up!"

The girls giggled.

Tanenaga crossed his arms. "Anything else, my love?"

"Well, she's filled with remorse, but I think she has come to terms with his death. We should let her return to her village in peace and with her shame."

Tanenaga roared with deep laughter. Keiko glared at him. Her hands were clenched in trembling fists.

"And why would I do that? What makes you think the mad bitch won't try again? No. It's better that she rots in the dungeon."

He turned to go back into his chamber.

"What about food?"

He shook his head. "No."

He warned, "And if I find out that you tried to sneak food for her, the cook and the prison guard will be punished harshly for letting you." Tanenaga clearly suspected Keiko's sympathy. Keiko nodded and left.

"I guess I was right," Kiyo muttered the next morning as Keiko stood in front of her with only a kettle of green tea.

Keiko sighed.

"So... the kaiken?"

Keiko scowled at her. "Of course, I'm not giving you the kaiken. What do you think Tanenaga would do to me?"

"Then you shouldn't come back," Kiyo responded calmly. Sadness came over Keiko's face. She held her hand out and touched Kiyo's cold face. "You unfortunate woman," she said. Keiko stayed while Kiyo drank the tea and left when she was finished without speaking a word more.

Though hard to do, Keiko took Kiyo's suggestion and did not visit the next day. She decided she did not want to see Kiyo suffer her slow death. She tried to erase Kiyo from her mind by returning to her lonely walks through the castle gardens. But staring into the calm Koi pond amongst the autumn red maple, she thought only of Kiyo. She thought obsessively about her. She pictured her sitting alone in the dark cell, mourning her husband's death. She played compulsively with her kaiken. It was an option, but she could not bear the thought of Kiyo committing suicide while her parents waited for her return back in Keito. Not while there might still be a chance. She considered helping Kiyo escape in the night. But whatever plan she came up with in her mind, she knew there was no realistic hope. Kazuo was nice to her, but still had to do his job. And what if she was able to get past Kazuo? What of the castle guards and the guarded gates of Erimo? And what of her fealty to her Daimyo?

That night, she went into an uneasy sleep and dreamt lucidly. A baby cried somewhere in the shadows of her mind. Kiyo stood on an empty plain of shadow, still, limp and defeated, her face staring absently at the cold, black ground. Her wrists and ankles clasped tightly in rusted iron bonds. She bled from cuts all over her body. Keiko ran over to Kiyo and tried to wrest her from the iron clasps. Tanenaga stood in the corner with his arms crossed, watching with amusement on his face. Ready to burst into laughter. Tears were in Kiyo's eyes. The baby cried again; this time more distant. An inexplicable, fiery pain filled Keiko's breasts.

Keiko awoke, drenched in sweat, and disoriented. She clenched her breasts. They were, as in the dream, swollen with pain. Confused, she looked down and saw that her kimono had become moistened around her nipples. It has been months since her child's premature death, months since she had produced milk - but the feeling was unmistakably familiar. She suddenly had an idea.

Without wasting any time, she jumped out of bed and ran down to the prison. Kazuo was sitting in his seat by the prison door. He grinned at her pleasantly and stood as she arrived. "It's so nice to see you at erm...this unexpected hour, my lady!"

"I need to see her," Keiko said, panting as she arrived.

Kazuo nodded and opened the prison door.

Kiyo stirred from her sleep. Keiko brought in a flame torch and set it into a mount on the wall of the prison cell. It cast the room in a warm orange glow. Shadows played on the wall of the prison. Kiyo's sallow skin was starting to stretch thin across her bones. The shadows from the light accentuated her rib cage. It took some effort for her to sit upright.

Keiko sat next to her and quietly started to unwrap the top of her kimono.

"What are you doing?" Kiyo asked, startled at the odd behavior.

Keiko stayed silent. With the top of the kimono undone and draped loose around her waist, she loosened her white undergarment around the collar, causing it to fall from her delicate shoulders to reveal her swollen breasts and her enlarged nipples.

"I have milk," Keiko said simply.

Kiyo laughed and shook her head.

"You're not serious," she replied.

Keiko gazed solemnly into Kiyo's eyes.

"You are serious."

Keiko nodded. She shuffled over and straddled Kiyo's thighs to present a breast to her, breathing hard in trepidation.

"I'm going to keep you alive," Keiko said.

Keiko felt Kiyo's warm, nervous breathing on her skin. She closed her eyes and said, "just do it."

Kiyo complied. She slowly brought her face forward to the nipple, hesitating for a moment, then put her lips around the areola and sucked. Keiko flinched at the wet sensation of Kiyo's mouth. Though she had produced milk before, she had never breastfed. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as the startling sensation sent shivers through her nerves.

Nothing came out at first, but she beckoned Kiyo to continue sucking as she massaged her breast to coax the milk out. When it finally flowed, Keiko sighed with relief. She sat with her eyes closed for a moment, enjoying the sensation of the milk issuing from her breast. The pale white liquid streamed down Kiyo's chin as she apprehensively sucked. Kiyo's warm mouth, her tongue, and the slight rasping of her teeth against the skin of the soft breast was satisfying.

After a few minutes, Kiyo unlatched from the breast.

"I have to admit... it tastes... good. It's sweet," Kiyo said, after gulping down a mouthful of the milk.

Keiko stroked Kiyo's cheek and replied, "keep going."

Kiyo latched back on and continued to suck until the milk flow thinned. Keiko presented her other breast and Kiyo sucked. She again felt immense pleasure at the feel of Kiyo's warm tongue pressed against her nipple. She tightened up and held her breath and gasped. Hardly able to bare the excitement of the sensation, she grabbed at Kiyo's back and pressed her chest forward. Breathlessly, she whispered, "that feels so good."

She thought she had said it in her mind.

Kiyo stopped to look up at Keiko, with breastmilk on her chin.

"Say that again," Kiyo said.

Keiko trembled. "Say what again?" she muttered with her eyes closed. Kiyo sucked again and watched Keiko face furl in pleasure. She then slowly kissed Keiko's breasts in the cleavage area. Keiko mouthed a moan and brought a hand up to her mouth to bite on. Kiyo then drew her tongue in circles around the areola of the other breast before sucking on the nipple. Still watching Keiko's face, she gently bit down on the nipple. Keiko jumped and let out a small yelp. Kiyo then reached over Keiko's head with her bound arms and locked her in an embrace, pulling her face down. Keiko opened her eyes to find Kiyo beckoning her closer. Panting, she drew her face in. Their lips touched in a delicate kiss.

When their lips parted, they held their faces just far enough apart to gaze into each other's surprised eyes, allowing for a moment to comprehend what had just happened. There was a feeling in Keiko's gut that was more than just the comfort that came with providing Kiyo nourishment with her breastmilk: she felt, suddenly, a desire for something she had not felt for a long time. To touch sensually. To hold someone warm. To feel their heartbeat. Keiko reached out and ran her fingers through Kiyo's hair. She understood why she wanted Kiyo to live. Kiyo gave her what she just now realized she was missing dearly. Their intimate connection reconnected her to her own lost soul. She treasured that feeling. She was alive again.