That caught Munson’s attention. “Oh?”
“You are not what I think of as a submissive.”
“And have you known many submissives?”
Haru pursed his lips. “I am from Japan, the land where the sun begins. We have a certain respect for submissive personalities.”
Munson appeared surprised at that announcement and he took a few seconds to answer with a doubtful, “Do you?”
“Yes,” Haru said. “Entertainers will host meetings and ease the conversations of more aggressive guests by bringing a submissive energy and redirecting the discussion when appropriate.”
“That sounds like someone feigning submissiveness, not a submissive.”
Haru had to admit that was a possibility. “Perhaps. However I had assumed that those who chose to become hosts did so because of their submissive natures.” Haru remembered the older woman his father had always hired to handle business meetings. Ichi’s gentle conversation and tea service would smooth over the most heated arguments.
Munson tilted his head. “I would be intensely uncomfortable trying to manage Ondry if he were in a mood to speak aggressively with another. I imagine most submissives would be. I would feel my proper place would be to either avoid interfering with Ondry’s anger or to help him find more creative ways to express it.”
“Which implies that the hosts I have known and employed use the mannerisms of submission to avoid inciting more aggression,” Haru said, following Munson’s logic to the conclusion.
Munson smiled without answering.
“Would you call it surprising that you, as a submissive, chose to sign up to fight?” Haru couldn’t imagine Ichi raising a weapon, but if Munson was right, she had used her mannerisms to control those in the meeting instead. He wondered what she would have said if he had come to her with this same conversation. No doubt she would have smiled and guided him to another topic.
“I wouldn’t have signed up for the military if I hadn’t been desperate.”
“You were escaping an abuser.” Haru was in dangerous territory. If Munson chose to take offense, General Darfaor would skin Haru alive and leave his carcass out front for a warning to all other colonels who might interfere with his plans for Rownt trade.
“I was,” Munson agreed easily. He leaned back and braced his huge hands on his knees. “You’re shocked that I’m not acting damaged or lost.”
“I’m surprised you appear so assertive,” Haru corrected him.
“Because I’m a lowly lieutenant or because I’m submissive?”
Haru shook his head. “I do not think of you as a lieutenant. You are tuk-ranked, and I respect that. Lieutenant is a word on your paperwork to make the accountants happy when they process your pay.”
“So you believe a submissive is not assertive?”
Haru hesitated to make such a blunt statement.
Munson chuckled. “Zach Mora is submissive. If Command hadn’t asked for a volunteer, none of you would have known it.” Munson stared at Haru for long seconds before he continued. “The only submissives you notice are the ones who have been damaged by abusive partners or life in general. The timid soul you think of as a submissive is a frightened soul. A submissive person is someone who gives everything to someone else—their passion, their anger, their strength. If I’m weak, then I weaken Ondry. To be the best submissive I can, I want to be strong. But you people are so busy making assumptions that you don’t believe the aggressive, powerful person sitting next to you might have given himself to another.”
Haru’s thoughts turned to his father. Ryota Ito had been a powerful business leader with a reputation for shredding his political and business rivals. However, Haru remembered how he had devoted himself to his wife. When Haru’s mother had died of cancer, something in his father had broken. He had turned his business over to Haru’s older sister and retired. Within the year he had wasted away, following his wife to the next world. The doctors had no medical explanation, only softly spoken whispers of a broken heart.
Haru had a moment of kensho—an epiphany where the world reordered itself and a person glimpsed a deeper reality. Haru had never expected Munson to provide such a clear insight into the universe or Haru’s own family.
Perhaps Munson and the Rownt were travelers on the Eightfold Path. His mind made another sharp, unexpected connection. Haru thought of the Muromachi period statue of Aizen Myo-o that Tsang had for sale in his antique shop. Haru had tried for years to buy the beautiful, handcrafted piece of history. The ancient craftsman had lovingly carved every fold of fabric into the hard wood so even the weave of the cloth was represented. But that god with his ability to turn lust into spiritual awakening had never wanted to come home with Haru, or at least that was what Tsang had said. The man was particular about who bought his pieces. He had happily sold Haru other antiques, but never Aizen Myo-o.
“Would Rownt consider an introduction to be a proper trade good?” Haru asked.
Munson sat up. “Introductions are some of the best trade goods, assuming that you would introduce me to someone useful.”
“Charles Tsang,” Haru said, even though Munson hadn’t yet offered goods in return. “He’s an art dealer specializing in antiques, and he has a statue I believe you would find value in, although I cannot guarantee he will sell it to you.”
“Introductions are never guarantees.”
Haru stood. “Let me call my car, and we can go and visit him. You should tell him how misguided Command is on the issue of submissives. He would be amused.”
“So, he’s not a fan of Command?” Munson asked as he stood.
Haru frowned. “I’m not sure he’s a fan of the human race in general.” Haru wasn’t even convinced Tsang was a member of it. The man was eccentric. “But on the way over, I’ll tell you the history of Aizen Myo-o. He’s one of the great kings of wisdom. Tsang has a statue of him that museums have tried and failed to purchase from him.”
“Really?” Munson definitely sounded interested now. “On the way to his shop, I’ll tell you about the Imshee.”
“The Imshee?” Haru had not expected to land the holy grail of trade.
“Command probably needs to know about them because they’re in the neighborhood, and they have some very strange ideas about humans.”
Those were words to inspire terror in a military man. “How can they have ideas about us? Have they encountered humans?” Haru asked carefully.
“That is another long story. After you tell me about Aizen Myo-o, I’ll talk to you about persistence hunting.”
“About what?” Even though Munson spoke English, Haru felt as if he needed a translator to explain Munson’s version of the language.
“This may take a while. I hope you don’t have meetings this afternoon.”
Haru did, with General Dafaor. However, the general would forgive him if the trade was a success. “Let me have my aide cancel my afternoon and get the car.”
Kensho Part Two
Liam had been nervous about dealing with humans without Ondry, but he had promised himself that he would not allow his past to turn him into a frightened rabbit hiding behind Ondry his whole life. So he had insisted on coming alone. Liam was glad he had.