on the floor like a slapped fish."
Haru huffed but said nothing.
Naoki continued drinking. He hadn't shown up sober to a single important function in the past ten years, and he saw no reason to break with tradition now. Given his betrothed, all the more reason to stay drunk.
"Please, Naoki," Haru said after several minutes. Her voice was soft, pleading, and when Naoki looked up all the alcohol in Verona could not banish the fear that was in Haru's eyes. "Mama has been angry all night, and if you're not at breakfast, even hungover, she will take it out on all of us."
Biting back the bitter retort on his lips, Naoki finished off his saké and threw coins on the table for the barmaids who'd served him all night. He swayed and wobbled as he heaved to his feet, knocking askew the cushion he'd been sitting on.
Haru caught him before he could slam into the floor, heaving a long sigh as she slid an arm around Naoki's waist and dragged one of Naoki's over her shoulders. "You're going to put yourself in an early grave."
"By marrying that spider? Yes! Finally someone agrees with me."
"By drinking like this almost every single day."
"I should be so lucky," Naoki said.
Haru sighed again but said nothing further.
They slowly made their way out of the bar, the world dull and fuzzy, all its sharp edges softened by saké. Naoki hated when the edges returned; all they did was make him bleed—for ships, for amulets, for family, for country. Everybody wanted a piece of him, and no one cared about the damage all their hacking did.
All around them insects buzzed and chirped, their chorus punctuated by the eerie tune of songfish and the splashing of much larger creatures. The air smelled of salt and smoke, pleasantly cool on his overheated face.
The only thing ruining it was Haru and her oppressive silence. "Spit it out, whatever you're stewing on. Your dithering is interfering with my drunk."
"I wish you'd stop drinking."
"I wish I wasn't getting married. I wish Arata was still alive. Wishing doesn't go very far in life, Haru. If you want something, you must earn it, buy it, or steal it."
Haru just sighed again, the sigh of a sixteen-year-old going on fifty.
"Oh, leave off, old woman. At least I'll soon no longer be your problem." Their father was giving the newlyweds a beautiful villa in the heart of the city's main island, only a short ride from the Ishikawa house and a slightly longer one from the Ferro house. No one had shut up about Ishikawa-don's generosity.
That was only because no one knew the things Naoki did. His father wasn't quite as evil as his stepmother, but only in that an octopus was not much like a squid. The differences mattered to very few, and not everyone could tell you what the differences were.
He shoved away from Haru, stumbling a few paces before gaining his balance, and began to sing a fishing song horribly offkey.
"Oi, oi, Naoki!" Haru jabbed him in the ribs. "It's late! You'll bother people."
"Out here? I'll bother some fish, maybe." He pulled away from Haru's sharp fingers and resumed singing. "Oooone fish for a yinn, one kiss for a yinn, and for the miss one fuck—"
"Naoki!"
"I told you—"
"No! Look!"
It was the terror in her voice that finally registered. Naoki turned to face her, then turned again, nearly toppling, to follow where she stared.
A figure had slunk out of the cluster of rocks and scrubby trees, dressed in dark clothes with something wrapped around most of his face. "Ciao, Tani-don, bella-donna."
Naoki moved to stand in front of Haru. "We want no trouble. We're just trying to go home." He reached inside his jinbei and drew out his few remaining coins. He tossed them at the bandit's feet. "Take it and go."
"I think you've got more to offer than that," the thief said, and brandished a long knife.
Despite the years that had passed, the number of fools that had accosted him as he ambled his drunken way home, Naoki never stopped being terrified of bandits with knives. He'd long ago started leaving his rapier at home because having it drew more trouble than not having it, but that came with its own risks.
Was this the night he'd end up like Arata? A knife in his gut, his blood soaked into the ground? Better him than Haru. Hopefully she'd get a chance to run for safety.
"I spent it all on booze," Naoki said. "What I gave