Even though she dreaded it with all her heart, the day of filming the scene with Kondo-san came anyway.

"And it just figures," she lamented, pulling the curtains back to look out past the steamy hot pool to look at the day. It was murky and cloudy, and gray, with lowering skies, a grim day to match her grim mood.

"It's been beautiful," she said, turning to Nick, who was behind her. "Remember yesterday? The sky was such a deep blue?"

Nick nodded as he slipped his arms round her, pulling her into his chest. He kissed the top of her head. He knew that she wanted this kind of contact, and was learning to accept it as loving and comforting.

"And remember that it was ass kicking cold?" he reminded her. "It must be ten degrees warmer today, right?"

Reluctantly, she nodded. "But still," she went on, grasping his strong forearm where it crossed her body. "I just feel so much better when I can see the sun, you know? I don't care about the temperature, I can just put on more clothes."

Nick turned her around so he could rub her back. "I just wish I could be there with you," he said. "I know, though, that there's no way they're going to let a day like this go by. They've been waiting for a good foggy day to do those river shallows spots, with the horses? I bet that's where we'll be today.

"I really hate the idea of you rehearsing and filming with that bastard without me," he reiterated, rubbing his chin against the top of Sumire's head.

Sumire's put her arms around Nick . "Me, too, Nick."

"Are you scared?"

She shook her head stoutly. "No. He can't hurt me. I know that. But it's sickening to think about being that close to him. I don't want to do it."

Nick rubbed her back some more. "Just hold on to those feelings, use them."

Sumire-nodded.

Nick sighed.

"And they really decided that Kondo's going to assault you? He actually rapes you?"

Sumire nodded again. "They decided it would have the best value for the movie, the best impact. I think they added some scenes where Hiro's character finds out and confronts his father about it. And they think it gives my character more reasons to want to leave with your character and return to Edo."

"Fuck. That's going to be some rough shooting." Nick kissed the top of her head again.

"Come on, let's eat before it gets cold," Nick suggested, and they sat to eat their beautiful breakfast, though neither of them was particularly hungry.

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"Because this scene is so emotional, I'd like to try one take cold, with no rehearsals," Murakami-sensei said in Japanese. "We did the blocking, the lights are set, I just want something raw, to capture the emotion, because I know that Sumire-san feels very strongly about what's happening in this scene, don't you?"

He looked at Sumire, who nodded tensely back at him.

Kondo-san stood a few feet away from her, ready to shoot. He looked confident, strong, every bit the master of the manor, supercilious and vain.

"And what about what I asked?" Sumire spoke only to Murakami-san.

"Yes, I'm willing to try what you requested for this cold take, Sumire-san," Murakami-sensei agreed, nodding his head. "It will be an interesting way to shoot. I've never done anything like it, and I'm curious how it will work."

Sumire knew that Murakami-sensei was experimental, and she had hoped his exploring nature might make him want to try what she had in mind. It made her more confident, as well.

She gave him a small smile of gratitude, and nodded to Miki, who sent out a quick text. Within a minute, the doors to the manor house opened, letting in gusts of cold, damp air. Everyone looked up to see who was arriving so close to the start of shooting, when cast and crew were already on set.

From both entrances, women were filing in, at least a dozen from each door; costumers, make-up, even a few from craft services.

"Sumire-san wanted the support of her fellow women who are working on this film for the shooting of this deeply emotional and wrenching scene," Murakami-sensei explained to everyone who was watching the women come in and gather on the perimeter of the set. "She felt she would be able to reach into her heart and dig deeper into her feelings if she had them around her to rely on."

Sumire was watching Kondo-san's face as the women assembled, wondering if he recognized them, the significance of who they were. He could see and feel them looking at him, glaring at him in some cases, all of the young girls he'd fondled and groped on this set and others, and she could tell that he did.

Good.

The look on his face had slipped, not much, but enough.

Enough for Sumire to do what she was going to do.

She was wearing the beautiful kimono of a great house of Japan, the house Hana was born to, and her hair was held off her face with tortoise shell combs and colorful decorations. She looked every bit the confident fiancée of a powerful young lord. This was what Kondo-san's character was drawn to, what he lusted after in the movie.

And they were alone in the manor, because Hiro's character was off fighting, side by side with Nick's character.

"Places!" Murakami-sensei's voice rang out in the darkened manor, and silence descended on the set.

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"You'll soon be part of this house, this great house."

"Yes, I'm grateful to be welcomed into such a noble and old house, Father."

"And the rooms of this old manor will be filled with the laughter and voices of the young daughters and sons you'll provide for my family."

Hana swallows and looks uneasy, but bows to Lord Ichiro.

"I hope this will be so. My life will be complete if Hiro-sama and I can provide grandchildren for my master to enjoy in his old age."

Lord Ichiro steps closer to Hana, admiring her hair, and the back of her neck as she bows.

"As long as the child is of my blood, I don't care whether it's a grandchild or not, do you understand what I'm saying?"

He smiles unpleasantly at Hana.

She shakes her head.

He reaches out and slides a hand under the shoulder of her kimono, exposing her white neck and arm. He grasps her by the arm and forces her to rise.

Hana, finally understanding, shakes her head, her smooth hair sliding over his hand.

She shrugs her shoulder out from under his fingers.

"No!"

"You do not say no to me! I am your master."

Hana backs up a few steps from Lord Ichiro, her kimono slipping along the smooth floor.

"No. I do not submit to you. I won't."

Lord Ichiro takes a step toward her and grabs a handful of Hana's hair, jerking her forward, forcing her to her knees again.

Hana leans in and bites Lord Ichiro's wrist, causing him to release her hair as he yanks his hand out of the way.

Kondo-san's eyes flicked to Murakami-sensei for a microsecond, but he didn't break character.

"What kind of disobedience is this? You belong to my son, which means you belong to me," Lord Ichiro mutters, lips barely moving. "You'd better get used to me, because of the two of us I'm the stronger man by far, and I'll use you far more often than he will."

Hana shakes her head, eyes flashing. Her kimono is half off, her hair is in disarray, and a small line of Lord-Ichiro's blood trickles from her mouth.

She looks magnificent.

"I belong to no one, I am used by no one. I've spent my whole life alone and afraid, but no more. I'm not afraid of you. You can't hurt me. You're not god. You're not even a monster."

She stares at Lord Ichiro, a look of such intensity and ferocity that it's almost inhuman.

She takes a small step forward, and Lord Ichiro, staring at her, takes a compensating step back.

"You're just a man, and barely that. You sneak around and prey on the weak in the darkness, when they're alone. You take from those who can't fight back, counting on their fear, their weakness to keep them silent.

"Well, no more. You want me? Too bad, you can't have me! I won't belong to you, or anyone! You're not my father! My father was a noble man, of a noble house, and I carry his noble blood. I won't pollute it by mixing it with yours, no I won't."

Hana shakes her head and wipes Lord-Ichiro's blood from her chin with the back of her hand before spitting at his feet.

She slowly pulls her kimono sleeve up to cover her shoulder and turns to leave the room. The only sound is the slippery sound of her kimono sliding along the slate floor.

Silence.

"Cut!"

More silence.

Then applause, started by one of the women who was watching. The other women slowly joined in, then the crew, until, by the end, everyone onset was clapping, a groundswell of sound and emotion that carried everyone in the room on its crest, especially Sumire, who had yet to emerge from the door she'd exited.

Miki quickly walked through it and found Sumire, collapsed in a heap, shaking as she wept. She quickly wiped her face and got her on her feet.

"Daijobu desuka? Are you okay?" she asked.

Sumire nodded, sniffing, and they went back through the door together. Sumire put a smile on her face and tried to look like someone who'd just acted her ass off, and not someone who'd just been through a personal catharsis and an emotional wringer.

The only person who seemed unsure of what to do was Kondo-san. He looked around as the applause slowly died, blinking, arms folded.

"So, shall we take it again?" he asked when the room was relatively silent. "The improv was a good warm up, but that kind of silliness won't work for the plot development of the film."

He gestured to his wrist. "I'll have to get this seen to first, of course," he said. He looked at Sumire. "Good work, Sumire-chan," he told her with an insincere smile. "But you didn't have to bite me quite so hard, did you?"

He turned away, shaking his head. "I hope you don't have anything contagious," he joked.

Sumire turned away without answering as the women slowly filed out.

"Five minutes, sensei?" Kondo-san said to Murakami-sensei. "To see to my arm?"

"We're finished with this scene," Murakami-sensei told him, speaking as if to a small child. "What Sumire-san just did could never be repeated, or bettered, not in any way. That's going to print. In fact--" he turned to the DP and the rest of the crew.

"Cut and print!" he called out with authority. "Set for the next shot!" he added "Fifteen minutes!"

Everyone scattered for their fifteen minute break, leaving Kondo-san standing in the middle of the quickly emptying room alone.