The Distant Whispers
Chapter One Yui Kondo’s hands were stained indigo to the wrist, a permanent mark of the dye pits that smelled of ammonia and rot. I stood in the loom hall, the air thick with the humidity of the Tōhoku moor, watching the Guild Master, Tanaka Haruki, inspect my work. He held the bolt of silk up to the grey light filtering through the high windows, his face a mask of bureaucratic indifference....
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