Hinamori Momo's 8th Spring


Momo's hands clutched her mother's tightly as she stared up in awe at the towering forms of the warriors before her. One fist was clenched loosely around a pretty wildflower she had found earlier in the day, now all but forgotten at the eagerly caught glimpses of shining armour and weaponry through the gaps between the spectators, all of which were taller than her.

"Momo-chan," her mother beckoned and Momo was lifted up onto her shoulders, now a full head taller than the spectators. With a bright laugh of surprise and joy, the young girl feasted her eyes on the parade.

"Are they really barbarians, mama?" she questioned, eyes growing round in wonderment at the strong bodied people dressed in rich clothing before her.

Her mother smiled from below her, catching her daughter's question. "No darling, they're from the West."

"Then why does Tenma-sensei say they're barbarians?" Momo insisted, eyes never leaving the parade.

Her mother inwardly gave Tenma a dark look at teaching her daughter such things but replied, "Because that's what the Empire says, and Tenma takes his orders from there."

"Oh," Momo said, not really understanding but accepting the fact.

For a while, the two just stood there, watching the warriors walk past, splendid in their armour, banners adorning the sky. The colours were whirlwind-like in their ferocity. Unlike the more scholarly people in the East, the Westerners lived in a harsh environment that abided strictly to the survival of the fittest. Even the least skilled had a vast wealth of fighting knowledge and cunning – the weak were killed without mercy, thus earning them the name barbarians in the East. For them to come so far East was a big occasion greeted with caution by the ruling parties who were fully aware of what this rare race of people were capable of on the battlefield.

Momo felt her mother's hands loosening and turned in confusion. Her mother was still holding her up, but her grip was weak, and Momo felt her muscles trembling as she put her down.

"Mama?" Momo questioned, seeing her mother's face had lost some of its colour. "Do you have to go to the doctor again?"

Her mother smiled tiredly and absently rubbed the small of her back. "Sorry Momo… will you be all right on your own?"

Momo nodded, and her mother limped away after giving her a small goodbye kiss.

Without her mother's assistance, Momo strained to see over the heads of the crowd jostling in front of her, but soon found that she was small enough to push between most people's legs. Using the revelation, she managed to wriggle her way to the front. However, there was one last obstacle that still irked her.

She stared in frustration at the considerable width of the plump woman in the front row. Determined brown eyes narrowing, she ran forward and jammed herself between the woman's right leg and the man beside her. They didn't seem to feel a thing as her face poked out, the rest of her body quickly following. Her view was finally free from all obstacles, and a marvellous scene it was! Taking a sharp intake of breath she absorbed the scene before her like a sponge – there was so much information, beauty and lights she felt overwhelmed.

The sun glinting off metal dazzled her, and she blinked, disoriented for a moment before refocusing. The people looked so tall and powerful, she felt so small and insignificant beside them. She gasped along with the rest of the spectators as the last line approached. These were the four noble houses that had a long standing history of bearing the greatest fighters. She strained forward for a better look, but the fat woman beside her, having finally noticed her unwelcome presence, gave Momo a harsh jostle with her hip, making the girl pitch forward with a yelp.

Her head expected a hard landing, probably killing a few hundred brain cells in the process. Instead, she was cushioned by something soft. Momo blinked a few tears of pain from her eyes and found she was sprawled on the ground, half supported by something her own size. One hand was empty and she looked frantically around for her wildflower. It was white, she remembered and found a large mass of it beneath her nose. For a moment, she stared at it, dazed, not knowing that petals could be so thin and silky.

"Oi, gerroff me," a muffled voice came beneath her and she quickly sat up, backing away. A snowy haired boy propped himself up with an elbow, sharp turquoise eyes wincing from the hard landing. For a moment, Momo's eyes were glued to his face. His colouring was so pale she wondered if it was a common trait amongst Westerners. Then she saw the tanned skin of the people around them and guessed not.

"Who-" she stammered, face heating as she realised the area was deathly quiet. Her little spectacle had brought the entire parade to a halt and she could feel the accusing stares of the hundreds gathered to watch the march. Her embarrassment only increased when she looked back to the boy again after a scared look around the parade grounds. He was staring openly at her, curiosity evident in his gaze.

She bit her lip, an uncomfortable feeling worming in her gut. "My flower," she whispered, wanting to step away from the centre of attention but knowing she could go nowhere without the day's achievement.

The boy blinked, and the connection was broken. "Oh, this?" he said and offered her the pure white wildflower. It was a little crumpled from their collision but Momo didn't care. Quickly, snatching it from his hands, she fled the scene, face burning.

Pushing through the crowds was an easier, if not rougher affair of crashing into people. Until the parade grounds were safely behind her, she could feel a steady prickling at her neck that reminded her of ocean coloured eyes and snow textured hair.

Cradling her precious flower in her hands, she slowed to a walk as the familiar gates of home swam into view. Blinking, she realised she had tears in her eyes. "Stupid Momo," she scolded herself softly and opened the front door, entering the modest home.

Immediately, she realised there was something wrong. "Tenma-sensei!" she exclaimed, running over to where her teacher and doctor was sitting hunched over a still form. The room was dim, curtains draw tightly over the window. Stopping at the entrance to the room, she found herself unwilling to proceed – both at the grim expression on Tenma's face and the stuffiness of the room.

Tenma stood, noticing her hesitate at the door. "It's alright, come in."

Ducking her head, she made her way to the bed, biting her lip at the sight of her mother whose face was drawn and shiny with sweat.

"Okaa-san…" she said softly, having seen her mother in the state before but still uncomfortable with the huge change from the smiling woman at the parade grounds.

Her mother cracked lips parted and managed to croak out 'water'. Momo hurried to the kitchen at the word, climbing on top of a stool to reach the sink. Fetching a cup from the cupboard, she turned the tap on a filled it to the brim. Hopping down from the stool, she carried it carefully over to the bed. Tenma helped rest the rim of the cup to her mother's lips and the woman took a few grateful sips before letting her head fall back down to the pillow. Within minutes, she was asleep.

Momo watched her mother quietly, but with worry. "Is… okaa-san alright?" she asked Tenma timidly.

Tenma looked at her, helplessness in his eyes. Momo felt her spirits sink at the sight. "I'm sorry Momo. She's been drastically ill for 7 years already. I'm surprised her immune system hasn't collapsed already from the strain of both the illness and motherhood. I've done all that I can… the medicine's expensive but it turns out it only managed to provide short term relief. Momo, she'll die if a miracle doesn't happen."

Momo shook her head, not wanting to believe the doctor. "She'll recover. She has before. She will again," she said with determination.

Tenma sighed but deposited two glass bottles with small brown balls inside along with instructions on the medicine's application. Momo saw him out the door and Tenma wished them all good health before leaving.

After the doctor's departure, Momo fetched the flower jar from her windowsill and put it in her mother's room, placing the white wildflower inside. She managed to wake her mother and administered some of the medicine Tenma gave them, reading the instructions as best as she could. Her mother gave her a small smile of appreciation for her efforts before lapsing into a troubled sleep again. Momo found herself half dozing at the effort but pinched herself awake, remembering the amount of chores that still had to be performed. The parade incident earlier in the day was all but forgotten as she swept, cooked and cleaned. She fed her mother as best as she could, but much of the soup was wasted. Finishing the rest off herself, she felt sleep overtake her again.

Slowly, her head fell on the desk onto a half-deciphered piece of Tenma's instructions. "No…. not yet…" she mumbled but the wooden table-top felt so comfortable, and her mother's soft breathing was almost like a lullaby. Her gaze wandered over to the windowsill and found the white flower. Vision blurring as her eyes dropped close, she uttered a short prayer for a miracle.


:) Just posting it to glean reactions... This will take a while to write as it's the piece I'm bringing to Writer's Society at school and one of the specific conditions is: NO STRESS

As many of you fellow writers will know!