Work Text:
Mai wore a plain white shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, her trousers torn and tattered, rising above her ankles. Her hair was cropped at a boyish length, too short to tie back. She managed to clip her bangs back, though.
Scrolls were scattered across the worktop, containing shapes, sizes, colours for the horse shoes.
The forge rang with the steady rhythm of hammer against iron. Sparks leapt into the air, glowing metal singing beneath her hammer. Her gaze drifted to the abandoned work bench.
Maki was meant to do this with her. She was off studying at the library, or hanging out with this boy.
She had seen him once. Dark rings under his eyes. Dishevelled hair. Tripped over his words or his feet.
Only last night Maki had stumbled out of the living room, rubbing her temple with a groan.
“Where the hell have you been?” Mai hissed, seizing her sister’s shoulders.
“Where’d you think? Getting beaten. Duh,” she scoffed, gesturing to the fresh bruises.
“I know that! I mean where were you before that?”
“Was out studyin’...” The girl sighed, plopping down onto the futon. Legs and arms spread starfish wide.
“Why’d you even bother anyway?”
“What? You think this is what I wanna do with my life? Make horse shoes? Nah. I wanna go out in the real world. Do my own thing.”
“Why?” Mai sat on the edge of the bed, arms resting on her knees, “We got everythin’ laid out for us. Just have to do as told.”
“It’s not what I want. Maybe this life is fine for you, but not me.”
A silence stretched over them.
“...Does it hurt?”
“I’ll let you take a guess,” Maki grumbled.
Mai clicked her tongue. “Gee. Sorry for caring.”
“Whatever,” her sister climbed under the blanket, drawing it up to her shoulders, “I ain’t in the mood for your moodswings.”
Mai swiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her arm, streaking her face with soot. Before her, the half-shaped horseshoe gleamed atop the anvil. Bright. Red-hot. She leaned closer, her hair tumbling forward, the heat fanning across her face.
Then, she turned the iron with her tongs. The edges needed more curve. A little more give to cradle the hoof it would protect. Lifting the hammer, she struck again and again.
Last night her father mentioned something about a visitor, speech slurred. Mai knew better than to question it, so she nodded along. There was a boy approaching. This must be him.
Mai sniffed, and rubbed the cartilage in her nose until it clicked. Standing to her feet, she dusted herself off.
His boots were knee high. Heavy buckles. Kept his helmet tucked under his arm. This was him- Noritoshi Kamo. Upcoming figure in the horse riding world, dominating all the headlines.
“Mai, but you can just call me Zeni’n,” she announced, bowing low. Her place was always beneath a man.
Noritoshi was pretty for a boy, Mai noticed. Hair grazing his shoulders, fingers slim. Dainty and eloquent, everything she couldn’t be.
Noritoshi simply stood, staring. He blinked once. Twice.
“There’s no need to bow,” he extended a gloved hand. “Here.”
Mai lifted her head, but took his hand and shook it firmly. Skin on silicone.
She pulled away first, shoving her hands in her pockets.
“We will be working together, after all. It makes sense that we’re on good terms.”
“I’ve heard great things about your work. I thought I should come see it in person.”
“Yeah, sure. Come in.” With a jerk of her head, she gestured him inside.
Ogi stumbled out, sliding the shoji, his vision blurred. He struck her across the cheek. Pain bloomed, sharp and raw.
“Oi. You don’t get to talk to him. It ain’t your place. Go do your work.”
“Yes,” Mai ducked her head low and nodded, “Understood.” A hand cupped her cheek, shielding the imprint from Noritoshi.
He eyed her up and down, then sneered.
“Tch. Get to it.”
He gave her a rough shove, sending her staggering. Noritoshi averted his gaze, tugging at a loose thread on his shirt.
Mai returned to her work bench, sorting through the scrolls.
Meanwhile, Ogi and Noritoshi were discussing horse shoes. Types of metal. Sizes. Shapes. Colours. Mai knew just as much as he did, but it wasn’t her place to protest.
“You. Girl. Take him to the barn.”
Abandoning her work, she nodded and took him to the barn.
Noritoshi cast her sidelong glances. Her nose was bent from a blow. Crooked. It made her wheeze a little whenever she breathed. With her sleeves rolled up, it exposed the bruises scattered across her arms, sickly green.
He swallowed thickly, dropping his gaze.
At the edge of the pasture was a weathered barn. Red paint fading to a copper brown. Sun worn. The roof tiles were corrugated metal.
Each stall held a thick bed of straw. Golden. Sun-kissed. Slightly ruffled where horses have shifted and laid down. Tucked into the corner was a feed bin with a rubber water bucket hanging from one wall.
“So, this is it. We keep the horses in here. Well fed and groomed,” Mai yawned, leaning against the fence, creaking under her weight.
“I see. Impressive. I’ll be sure to pick a horse soon.”
***
They had invited him to dinner. Her dad said they wanted to make a good impression. The Zen’in’s were never about hospitality. On his head, they saw fat stacks of cash.
Another extra place at the table meant another hour on her feet, another list of things to remember.
Mai held a wooden spoon in one hand. Kept a damp towel tucked into her apron strings, as if she might need to put out a fire at any moment. Around her, the young girls moved. Quick, uncertain circles.
Their hands smelling of garlic and dish soap. Sleeves rolled up past their elbows. They weren’t old enough to be trusted with knives, Mai having to dart between the girls in case of injuries. They stood atop stools, legs trembling. They were no older than seven.
“Keep the slices thin,” Mai called out, dragging the edge of her knife along a tomato.
“If it looks too thick, it probably is. Don’t want chunks of the veg in our food. And no one here wants a beating, right?”
Silence stretched out in the kitchen.
One of the girls was beside her. Eyes darting back and forth, hands trembling. She sliced the onions again. Thinner. Thinner.
Beside her, another girl was occupied. Stacking green onion like horse shoes, so focused that she didn’t notice a strand of hair slipping loose, only that Mai reached out and tucked it back without a word.
***
They carried the food out in waves. Young girls abandoned their stations, scurrying to grab a plate to carry. No one wanted to leave with their hands empty.
Mai went first, balancing the largest platter against her hip, the steam curling up into her face. The young girls followed in a staggered line. Each one carried a tray or bowl, fingers trembling.
“Straight line!” They slipped past each other, settling into a line. Hiding behind Mai to avoid the stares of the men.
The kitchen door swung open on a rush of cooler air and louder voices, and suddenly they were on display.
The lanterns scattered across the room bathed the room in a static, warm glow. A katana lays across the mantelpiece.
Incense burned, the air carrying a jasmine undertone.
They set the food down neatly arranged lacquered trays hold small ceramic dishes: bowls of perfectly steamed white rice, plates of grilled fish with crisp, slightly charred skin, and small side dishes of pickled radish and cucumber adding sharp color against the muted tones of the room.
There were simmered vegetables in light broth—lotus root, carrot, burdock—placed in simple bowls, and a larger shared plate of sliced sashimi arranged like overlapping fan blades over shaved ice.
The men sat in a circle, Noritoshi the centre of attention. The women sat along the outer edge of the ring. Among the elders, one clan member stood out with his pierced ears. Eyes slanted; his hair dyed football pitch green.
“You, woman!” He called out, snapping his fingers at the girls. “Give me more sake.”
Eyes darted around. No one wanted to do it. With a grunt, Mai sucked her fingers and wiped them down on her overalls. She’d rather it be her than the girls.
Mai flashed him a smile, saccharine sweet. Abandoning her plate of food, she scurried over to him. She bowed, before pouring the jug, amber liquid pooling into the glass.
Naoya huffed through his nose.
Mai went around serving all the men. Nodding. Smiling. Swatting away the hands that groped her like fruit flies.
Ogi snorted as her hand trembled.
“What? You scared? Of pouring a drink? Useless.”
Now it was Noritoshi’s turn.
He snatched the jug from her grasp, sake spilling onto the table.
“I’m capable of pouring my own drinks. I don’t need a lowly woman to do it for me,” he sneered, setting the jug down with a deliberate thud.
Mai pursed her lips into a tight, thin line. She wanted to bash his head into concrete.
“...Right. My apologies.”
“Ha! Ain’t that right. This one can’t even serve properly, but at least she’s pretty. Knows how to shut up and take it. Unlike her bitch sister,” Naoya snorted, patting Mai’s shoulder.
The men erupted into laughter, Noritoshi chuckling awkwardly.
***
“Get lost,” Mai sneered the next day. She had a cigarette dangling between her lips. Found it lying on the sofa and stole it. Rummaging through her pocket, she fished out a lighter and lit it, letting the tobacco cloud her lungs. She was sitting on an upturned bucket.
“You smoke? Since when?” He prompted, gesturing to the cigarette.
Plucking the cigarette from her lips, she gathered saliva in her mouth before spitting a fat wad of saliva, spraying onto his boots, polished daily.
“So that’s how it is, huh? Think of me as some ‘lowly woman?’ Guess what? I ain’t helping you anymore. Even if my dad beats me. If I’m so lowly, you can do it all on your own, right?”
Noritoshi pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Perhaps if you didn’t jump to conclusions, you would’ve let me get a word in. I don’t think you’re lowly. I just…didn’t like seeing being ordered around. I only did that so you didn’t have to serve me. If I said they should stop treating you so harshly, would they listen?”
The girl scowled.
“Look, I’ll…I’ll make it up to you. I’ll teach you how to ride a horse.”
“Right,” Mai rolled the cigarette between her finger and thumb, “Because that’s like, totally interesting.”
“Wel-”
“Alright, whatever,” the girl sighed, tossing her cigarette to the ground. She crushed it beneath the heel of her boot, mud dried along the edge.
“I could use a break anyway. If I don’t like this, I’m kicking you.”
The boy rolled his eyes.
“I regret apologising to you…”
Leading her into the barn, he moved the fence open, groaning in protest. The horse was a sleek bay mare. A coat that gleamed bronze in the sunlight, a pair of amber eyes to match.
He held eye contact with the horse, before reaching out and stroking her mane. She’d never seen him so gentle.
“First,” Noritoshi said, voice even, “you’ll find a steady rhythm with your breath. Inhale as you look forward, exhale as you settle into the saddle.”
Mai repeated his words under her breath, nodding. He then offered Mai a steadying hand as she approached the saddle, embroided gold along the edge.
“Place your left hand here, on the horn,” he instructed, “and your right hand on the saddle behind you for balance. I’ll lift you up so you don’t have to struggle with your weight alone.”
“Are you calling me fat!?” She exclaimed, shooting him a sharp glare.
“I’m calling you incompetent,” he deadpanned, “I doubt you’ll be able to lift your weight successfully on the first go. Especially onto a horse.”
“Shut it, horse boy. Now tell me where to put my feet.”
“Fine. Don’t take my help. Don’t expect me to feel sorry for you when you fall,” he scoffed, folding his arms across his chest.
Mai repeated his words before pulling a childish face at him.
“You’re actually a child…Alright. Lift your knees, find the stirrups, and- fix your posture. Stop hunching over like that.”
“Oh yeah, make fun of the newbie, why don’t you?”
Ignoring her, he continued:
“Look straight ahead, not down at the ground.”
The girl settled onto the saddle, legs bracketing the horses’ torso as she stared ahead.
“Slide your toes into the stirrups,” he guided, and Mai did, the leather creaking softly beneath her.
“Feel the horse’s balance beneath you,” Noritoshi continued, his gaze steady on her face. “If you lean too far, it will tell you without words. Small movements, small corrections.”
“Could you instruct me without the yap?” She snorted.
“Maybe if you weren’t so inexperienced I wouldn’t have to be so thorough.”
Mai found the reins, her grip firm but not tight.
“Ready?” he asked.
“You bet.”
“Then start.”
The horse moved with a confident, even pace. Mai’s hands adjusted to the reins, knuckles paling as she gripped it. Every step was a small victory against her nerves.
A grin skittered across her lips, the wind tugging at her hair. They were out of the barn now, trekking along the pasture. Neatly trimmed grass stretching out before them, on and on.
“Ha! This is eeaasyyy!” Mai snickered, “I’m gonna be a pro. Gonna come steal your place at the championships!”
“As if!” Noritoshi called out to her, cupping a hand around his mouth.
The hoofbeats fell into a steady rhythm, matching the pace of her heart.
When the ride felt almost too natural, Noritoshi guided the mare closer to the rail and then closer still, signaling a chance to practice a transition.
“Now, let’s practice getting off, but slowly. Don’t rush.”
But she didn’t wait. Mai braced herself to spring down, and-
Her foot caught on the stirrup as she tried to shift. The world tilted, blood rushing to her head. She landed on the grass with a thump, hands splayed out beneath her.
Silence stretched out beneath them.
Mai erupted into laughter, rolling over so she was lying on her back. He expected her to dust herself off and threaten him. But not…this.
He approached her, hovering around her awkwardly.
Her eyes were crinkled at the corners, catching her breath between giggles. Hair splayed out beneath her, catching rays of the setting sun.
“Are you, uhm…alright?”
“Yeah…” Mai sighed, swiping at her eyes. “I’m good.”
He extended her a gloved hand. She paused for a moment, then accepted it, letting him pull her up to her feet.
Dusting herself down, she grinned.
“Maybe I’m not a pro just right.”
He shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Maybe is an understatement.”
She’d never seen him smile before.
“...What? Is there something on my face?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Huh? What? Uh, no. Don’t think so. You’re just being a weirdo.”
His eyebrows crinkled in confusion. Mai didn’t elaborate.
After putting the horse back in its barn, Mai said:
“You ever think about quitting horse racing?”
He blinked. “Why would I? My predecessors have participated in it. I have my life laid out for me. All I have to do is follow it.”
“See? You get it. Same with me,”
Mai stared ahead, watching the setting sun over the horizon. It bathed the barn in a static, yellow glow.
“I’m happy to spend the rest of my life looking after horses and making horse shoes. But nooo. My sister’s got it in her head to branch out. Do her own thing. Weirdo. She’s just making things harder for her, anyways.”
Noritoshi hummed in acknowledgement. The girl cleared her throat.
“Yeah. Sorry about spitting on your shoe or whatever. We uh, cool now, though?”
“Yes. We’re alright,” he assured softly.
“You know,” Noritoshi began, “I quite like the horse you rode on today.”
“For real?”
“I’ll enter her in the championship.”
Mai offered him a shrug. “Yeah. Feel free. Come by tomorrow and show me how you want the horseshoes done. Any specific colour or nah?”
He looked at her. Really looked at her. The way her hair was chopped at a boyish length, hanging above her shoulders. The way her face scrunched up as she raised a hand to shield her face from the sun. The sun painted her in a softer light, highlighting the curve of her jaw. The slope of her neck.
“...Green.”
***
One day, Mai came back from the town, something tucked under her arm. She sat with her arms folded behind his head against the door. Knees propped up, newspaper balanced on her thighs. Big, bold letters along the top. Images scattered across the pages. Turning them over to look at them, skimming over the words.
“What are you reading?” Kamo prompted, gesturing to the newspaper. He was waiting to discuss the plans.
“Dunno,” Mai sniffed, “Can’t read, actually.”
“Why?”
“Girls don’t get taught to read. My sister can read a little, though.”
“Oh,” he knew better than to question it, “Okay.”
Noritoshi extended a hand, beckoning for the paper.
Suddenly, there she was, peering over his shoulder, their noses almost brushing together.
“So? What’s it say?”
With a roll of his eyes, he swatted her away.
“Personal space, please.”
“Right. My bad.”
He read the paper out to her. He didn’t have a thick accent bleeding into her words like she did. When he was done, he set the newspaper aside.
Mai rolled up her sleeves, exposing the hair on her arms. Her bruises fading into a dull grey.
“Alright,” Mai plucked the pencil she kept tucked behind her ear, spreading out a blue print on her work desk.
“Let’s get started.”
***
Rows upon rows were full of people. Women with hair scraped back into tight buns and scarlet lips, men clutching beer bottles. Mai heard her dad mumbling something about this being the place Toji used to bet on horses.
The track was an oval carved into the prairie. Framed by low, wind‑worn fences. Along the tracks were the imprints of horse shoes; embedded. Emerald trimmed grass was inside the inner ring.
Maki took her seat beside Mai, plopping down with a groan. Mai huffed through her nose, averting her gaze.
“Hey,” she called out, wrinkling her nose to push up her glasses.
“Shut up. I’m watching.”
With a roll of her eyes, Maki muttered a curse under her breath.
The rows erupted into cheers upon seeing Noritoshi step out, fastening the buckle of his helmet. Mai whooped and cheered as he took his place alongside the other contestants. Sea foam green, just like he wanted the horse shoes to be.
A man clad in all black stood at the centre of the field, gun raised. Fingers curled around the trigger to signal the start.
Mai flinched at the gunshot, the smoke slinking its way skywards.