Read Online Heartfelt Sounds by C.M. Estopare - Free Book Online

brushes it away.
    The piles of fallen hair stifles me—chokes me as if it's clogging up the air and I have to leave. I venture outside of our room. The sound of tears from the opposite end of the hallway calls me and I find Chima collapsed upon the floor. Her knees hugged into her chest.
    Her bob is missing.
    “A-Akane—” she sniffles, her eyes open. They stare at the wall. At nothing. She can't look at me. “s-she—she cut it all.”
    When I sit down beside her, Chima brushes me with a glance. A hard stare. A face that asks me to leave—to go away.
    But I can't. “I'm sorry.” is all I can tell her. “But look—you're still beau—,”
    She stands before I can finish—teeth clenched. She stands and turns on her heel.
    Leaves.
    …
    The soldiers don't come back for a day. For several.
    But the streets are alive with them. Creatures made of steel and leather walk the white streets freely, brandishing swords. Brandishing death. They flock to Akane's shop like geese led by a trail of bread—begging for her services as a gerant. Demanding it.
    Chima still can't look me in the eye when she passes me in the parlor—an air of cold about her—but Akane's still friendly. Still strong.
    “They bring souls,” she tells me one evening as the sun slowly shifts towards the golden light of the horizon, “that aren't in no way related to them. The souls of their enemies. Of the men who died protecting Felicity from them. They expect me to bind a soul to their blade against the soul's will. All because they want to go back and tell their buddies— I've got a soul in my sword! Look!” Akane leans back in her chair, the thing suspended on two legs as she brings her eyes from the bay window to me. “And when the soul shows them things they don't want to see—they want to blame me. As if it's my doing.”
    “Whose men are they?” I ask her, taking a seat across from her as she knocks back a cup of gray liquid that makes her shiver. “Where did they come from? Why did you cut all of Chima's hair?”
    The last question startles her. Akane freezes—slides cold eyes towards me. “What?”
    Her tone makes my stomach drop. But I repeat my question. “Why did you—”
    Akane slams her chair's legs upon the floor. “I heard you.”
    “Then—”
    “Notice she has a new attitude now, huh?” and Akane chuckles, the sound dark and joyless. “It's not because of her hair, Naia. She's a whore—you forget? She didn't come from some cushy silkhouse—she came from the worst of things—a whorehouse. You think she hasn't had worse things done to her? You think having a bald head matters to her?”
    Akane slides her empty cup across the table. It takes a dive off the edge, rushing towards the floor before it shatters into a million little pieces. Akane's smile is crooked—dark. The grin doesn't meet her eyes as her lids lower slightly. “See anything different, girl? Think we're missing someone?”
    I've been sick for weeks—maybe a couple of months or so. The seasons have changed—snow has fallen and Felicity has become occupied by foreign soldiers. All of the girls tended to me before the cold rolled in. But when the snow fell and I started to feel a bit better, only Akane and Shanti waited on me. Checked up on me from time to time.
    A soft silhouette moves behind cream colored paper. My door slides open—a voice calls my name. Tells me, “I'll see you soon.”
    And then I saw the soldiers.
    “Nyx and Chima aren't sisters, girl. Not anymore.” Akane comes closer, her breath hot. Spices tinging her scent. Sake sharpening her breath. “Sisters don't leave sisters behind. They share everything—love, hate, fear. But Nyx couldn't do that. She's gone, girl. And you led Chima to believe that Nyx and her had a sisterly bond—”
    I'd say it's sister looking after sister. My words—my eyes widen at the accusation.
    “You led her to hope—”
    I'm telling you to believe there's hope. Can you do that for me, Chima? My