“Yes,” Midori murmured. Look at me, she pleaded silently. Tell me you love me!
Hirata turned and smiled down at her. “I always feel happy when I’m with you, Midori-san. You’re so easy to talk to, and you make life so bright.”
Thrilled by his words, Midori couldn’t speak. She looked down so that. Hirata wouldn’t guess what a stir he’d caused in her. Then his strong, warm hand closed around hers. The thunder boomed and rain streamed down while Midori waited in breathless anticipation.
Then Hirata spoke softly, as if to himself: “The sōsakan-sama and Lady Reiko are so happy together and so right for each other that it’s as if theirs wasn’t an arranged marriage but a love match. That’s what I’d like someday. I wonder…”
Did he love her? Was he thinking that he’d like to marry her? Wild hope dizzied Midori. But Hirata fell silent. Perhaps he wasn’t ready to declare his intentions, and she was too shy to encourage him. Soon the storm ended; Hirata went back to work. Several days later, before Midori could see Hirata again, fate sabotaged her dreams.
The shogun sent Sano to investigate a murder in the imperial capital. Sano had left Hirata in charge of the detective corps during his absence, and the responsibility had driven any thoughts of love from Hirata’s mind. He labored night and day, overseeing the estate, investigating crimes. The shogun began to rely upon Hirata for companionship and counsel. Hirata still sought out Midori during moments in his busy schedule, but all he talked about was his work.
Then the shogun spent a few days at his villa in the hills, taking Hirata along as a bodyguard. Late one night, the shogun heard strange noises outside and became hysterical with fright. Hirata went to investigate and found burglars breaking into the house. After a bloody swordfight, he arrested them, winning the shogun’s fervent gratitude. News of the incident spread. Bakufu officials who’d once ignored Hirata as Sano’s mere assistant began cultivating his friendship. The Edo Castle women took new notice of him. Whenever he came to the palace, Midori saw him surrounded by fawning maids and ladies.
Now O-hana minced up to Hirata. “A million thanks for saving us from that awful wasp,” she said, smiling coyly.
“It was a pleasure. “ Hirata beamed at the maid.
“To what do we owe the honor of your company?” O-hana said.
“I was just delivering some reports to the sōsakan-sama’s office,” Hirata answered, “when I heard you screaming and stopped to see what was the matter.”
O-hana giggled; Hirata laughed. Midori could almost see their mutual attraction sparkle in the air. Her spirits plummeted. These days Hirata was always flirting with someone else instead of her. Even worse, he’d received marriage proposals from prominent clans who sought to wed their daughters to him. Sano acted as Hirata’s go-between, and Midori overheard them planning miai, meetings with prospective brides. This competition for her beloved’s favor horrified Midori, as did the change in Hirata.
All the attention had swelled his head, and on the rare occasions when Midori saw him, he seemed to have forgotten whatever he’d once felt for her. He would greet her casually, then dash off to work, a party, or another miai. Now, a year later, Hirata was still riding the wave of popularity.
“Look out, there’s another wasp!” he exclaimed, pointing at the sky. When O-hana looked up, he made a buzzing sound and tickled her arm. The maid shrieked. Hirata laughed, and she pouted prettily at him.
Suddenly Midori couldn’t bear for Hirata to ignore her. “O-hana!” she said sharply. “You’re supposed to be taking care of Masahiro-chan, not playing around. Go!”
O-hana gave Midori a resentful look and flounced into the house. Hirata’s grin told Midori that he knew why she’d sent the maid away, and enjoyed having two women vying for his attention. Midori felt ashamed of her jealousy and his vanity.
“Well, I must be on my way.” Hirata radiated self-importance. “Lots of things to do, people to see.”
Midori believed that deep inside his spirit he still cared for her. How could she restore him to his senses?
“When will you be back?” she said wistfully.
“Not until very late, I expect.”
Midori resisted the urge to ask when she would see him again. How could she persuade him that she was as right for him as Reiko was for Sano, and that a marriage between them would be the love match he’d claimed to desire?
“Good-bye,” Hirata said.
As he walked away, sudden inspiration struck Midori. “Wait,” she called.
“What is it?” Impatience shaded Hirata’s tone, but he stopped and faced her.
“This… this new case is important, isn’t it?” Midori faltered. Her idea seemed brilliant, yet perhaps too bold.
“Very important,” Hirata said. “Arson is a serious crime, especially at the shogun’s family temple.”
Taking a deep breath, Midori mustered her courage. “Maybe I could help you investigate.”
Hirata stared in amazement. “You?” Then he threw back his head and laughed. “That’s a good joke. You almost fooled me.”
“It’s not a joke,” Midori said. A flush of embarrassment warmed her cheeks. Hirata’s laughter hurt, but at least she’d gotten his attention, and all she had to offer him was her willingness to do anything for him. “I really want to help.”
“How? What could you do?” Hirata’s expression betrayed skepticism.
“Um… ” Not having thought beyond her initial idea, Midori improvised, “Whatever you wish of me?”
He regarded her with an affectionate mockery that deepened her hurt. “Detective work is too difficult for a lady.”
“But Reiko helps the sōsakan-sama,” Midori said. Reiko’s work with Sano appeared to be a key element in their happy marriage; it had given Midori the idea that she and Hirata might develop a similar arrangement.
“Reiko is the daughter of a magistrate,” Hirata countered. “She learned about crime in the Court of Justice, while you know nothing about investigating a murder.”
“I could learn by working with you.” Midori had conceived her plan as a way for them to spend time together, so she could impress him with her devotion. She had no real desire to be a detective, but she resented Hirata’s comparing her unfavorably to Reiko, because she felt inferior to her beautiful, clever friend. Now Midori wanted to prove herself as good as Reiko.
She said, “You could teach me what to do.”
Hirata shook his head in exasperation. “Detective work is also dangerous,” he said. “Reiko is an expert swordswoman; she can defend herself, but you wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight.” With gentle but unflattering scrutiny, Hirata appraised Midori’s soft, slender body, which rarely performed physical activities more strenuous than fetching and carrying for Lady Keisho-in; her dainty hands, which had never held a weapon. “You could get hurt, or even killed. Did you think of that?”
Midori hadn’t. She knew Hirata was only being practical, not deliberately cruel, but her spirits sank. He wouldn’t accept her help, and she couldn’t think of any other way to get closer to him. As her hopes for winning Hirata’s love dwindled, Midori bowed her head, blinking away tears.
“Why, you’re afraid of a tiny little wasp,” Hirata teased. “How could you dare to go out in the world of evil criminals?” Then his voice turned gentle: “Oh, come on. Don’t look so sad. You don’t really want to play detective, do you?” Hirata touched Midori’s chin. “Let me see your pretty smile.”
Midori’s lips trembled as she tried to comply.
“That’s better,” Hirata said. “Now you just put those silly thoughts out of your mind, all right?”
Reluctantly, Midori nodded.
“I’ll see you soon.” Hirata patted her head as if she were a child, or a dog. Then he strode away.
As Midori stared after him, a spark of anger burned through her humiliation. That he should patronize her this way! Now she decided to show Hirata that she was worthier than he thought. Wiping away her tears, she tossed her head defiantly. She would do whatever it took to prove herself as good as Reiko, and win Hirata’s love.