A/N: So, this was actually written around the time of Chinese New Year this year (in February) but I'm just sort of getting to posting it now. My bad! This is the first part of the Heirloom Jewelry series, which is a sequel to Tempus Fugit, and reading that one in advance will be helpful. Each fic will be set on an old, traditional holiday, and feature a piece of jewelry of some sort. Here's the R/J segment, and enjoy!
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I probably don't own it.
Jade Bracelet: Chinese New Year
Rei has been in the airport a few times before, and the last time had been together with the girls, chattering and laughing as they waited for Ami's plane to arrive from England. They had all watched from behind the security glass as Ami, smiling fully like she so seldom did, walked out carrying her tidy messenger bag and hand-in-hand with a slim young man whom they had known only as Zoisite. Zephan Delaney was soft-spoken but charming, his voice tinged with a musical Irish lilt and his fine-boned hands strong and surprisingly calloused from years of violin-playing. Though the Belfast-born hacker had very little in common with a foundling Chinese warrior, he and Jian had quickly established an easy camaraderie that echoed a thousand years of friendship and brotherhood. Rei had not been at the airport when Kareem had arrived, but she'd felt her sister senshi's happiness like a ripple that radiated out from the center of a pond and known, just as Mamoru had, that the leader of the shitennou had returned.
They would be going to the airport again in another nine months, to see Makoto off for a trip to the States. Niyol had somehow talked Makoto into getting on an airplane again and cajoled her into seeing his home, experiencing the American southwest and visiting the reservation where he'd grown up. But right now, it is her own turn.
Outside, the snow is falling in gentle white flakes and the air is crisp with frost, but even though both of them wore gloves, she can feel the warmth of Jian's fingers linked with her own. She feels his hand give hers a squeeze once the beaming faces of her friends disappear from view, but that doesn't dispel all of her nervousness. It would be an adventure, really, and he had reassured her that the temple on the Wudang mountain was not so different from the one she'd lived in for almost all of her life, and that she would enjoy the festivities. But that didn't change the circumstances, the significance of this trip.
It is the Chinese New Year, and he is taking her to meet his parents.
The moon is the thinnest fingernail-shaped sliver in the sky as it wanes, and the train that takes them from Shanghai to the Shiyan Prefecture is crowded with people returning to pay their respects to their parents. There's a faint, controlled excitement in the air, a festive atmosphere, but it just adds to her nervousness. She stirs the bowl of spicy noodles instead of eating it, even though it has been a few hours since her last meal, and watches Jian as he chats amicably with an old woman selling tangerines at a stop at the halfway point of the trip. Her knowledge of Chinese barely qualifies as rudimentary, but she can understand snatches of it. Jian respectfully inquires after her health and wishes her joy for the upcoming year, and buys half a dozen tangerines, waving away the change she tries to hand him. The lined, wizened face of the farmer's wife creases in a smile and she leaves their compartment, pushing her basket of fruit in front of her in a cart. Jian sits back down across from her and hands her a tangerine.
"There's still a bit of a walk after we arrive at the station," he tells her. "You'll want to eat your food, though I'm sure that my mother will have plenty more when we arrive."
Rei scowls a little, but eats the noodles and barely tastes them. She picks at the peel of the tangerine with her nails. "Your mother will have plenty of food for YOU."
"And for you," he smiled, taking the tangerine from her and peeling it for her before she could mangle it. "She'll love you."
"How can you be so sure?" Rei crosses her arms and ignores the fruit he sets down in front of her. "I'm not charming like Minako or well-spoken like Ami or sweet like Makoto."
"You're sweet, though you like to hide it, and well-spoken, even when you're angry. Especially when you're angry," He chuckles as she glares. "And you're at your most charming when you don't try to be. And of course she'll love you." His blue eyes soften and warm and he reaches across the table to take her hands. "She'll love you because I do."
She finds it in herself to return his smile and splits the orange with him.
It is indeed a bit of a hike to make it to the temple in the mountains, but the sky is sunny and the air is not too cold. The scenery is breathtaking as she and Jian make their way up the trails, sharing the rest of the oranges, and he shows her spots- a creek where he used to swim and fish as a boy, trees he used to climb to practice his qing gong, a hollow where white lilies would bloom in the springtime- and when the temple comes into view, the sun is just beginning to set. Jian walks forward, but Rei takes a moment to get her bearings and gaze at the picturesque building. Every window is lit and decorated with delicate images cut elaborately from red paper. There are banners hanging by the main door, one on each side, and it reassures her that some of the characters on them are the same as Japanese kanji. The courtyard is neatly swept free of snow and debris, lined with willow and poplar trees, and she can see a garden that in warmer weather would be fragrant with herbs.
The door opens even as she finally steps up to where Jian is patiently waiting for her, and reveals a woman whose long hair is faintly threaded with silver and whose eyes are tranquil and timelessly wise as the mountains around her. Jian's mother is slim and quietly beautiful, wearing a red scarf over her simple black tunic, and smiles when she sees them.
"Jian-Er," Lady Liu greets him, then turns to Rei, stepping forward and holding out her hands. Rei finds her own cold hands taken in warm, strong ones and sees nothing but welcome in the older woman's face. Something about Lady Liu's demeanour and aura reminds her of Makoto- protective, warm and steady as the forest, and she relaxes somewhat.
"She's beautiful," Lady Liu says in Chinese to Jian. Rei understands enough of the language to blush.
The meal for New Year's Eve is a vegetarian one, homey and simple, one shared around a small table with Jian's parents and little sister Shu-Li. Jian's father is tall and dignified, strong features framed by iron-gray hair, and his little sister is a pixie of a girl with a wide smile and a taste for sweets. Shu-Li wears her black hair in pigtails tied with red ribbons and her infectious good cheer reminds Rei of Usagi. She chatters with Rei, asking dozens of questions that Jian translates, and by the time Lady Liu brings out tea and candied lotus seeds at the end of the meal, Rei finds herself smiling and no longer nervous.
They have a room prepared for her, simple but cozy with a rosewood desk adorned with a blue and white porcelain vase holding papery, fragrant plum blossoms and an ink and brush stationery set. There is a square of red paper with a single calligraphy character hanging on her door and a beautiful, delicate paper cutting of a dragon and phoenix decorating her window. The bed is narrow but comfortable, but though she is tired, she stays up with Jian and Shu-Li as the clock strikes in the new year, and watches as they bow to Master Yang and Lady Liu and wish them happiness and luck. She doesn't know the words of the filial, traditional greeting, but she, too, inclines her head in respect to her host and hostess. She sees the approval in Master Yang's eyes and the devotion in Jian's and when she does go to bed, she sleeps soundly.
The celebration progresses for fifteen days, with rituals for good luck and elaborate dinners and firecrackers for warding off evil spirits and bringing in excitement and good cheer. They spend the vast majority of one of the days down in the village at the foot of the mountain, paying their respects to their neighbours. Jian clambers up the side of a wall without the aid of a ladder, light and agile as a bird, to patch a leaking roof. Rei was familiar with his skills, the intense training in armed and unarmed combat, the countless forms and stances practiced since childhood. It's strange and yet rather cheering to see them now used in such a manner. The house in question belongs to a set of young villagers celebrating the birth of a newborn baby, and for the entire day, the house is open to all visitors. Master Yang brings the happy parents a newly whittled cradle made of glossy maple wood. Lady Liu cooks the new mother chicken soup with her own special blend of herbs to restore the young woman's strength and supplement necessary nutrients. Little Shu-Li writes a poem commemorating the baby's birth on a calligraphy scroll to be hung on the wall, and Rei finds herself swept up in the celebrations, the atmosphere. Though she isn't part of the town or the group, she gives the new parents a charm from her temple to hang over the cradle. Jian translates for her, but it doesn't require an interpreter to read the happy smiles on their faces.
After a leisurely, filling dinner, they go back up to the temple, Shu-Li cuddling her new present of a white bunny that she'd been given, and Rei learns that Jian was born in the year of the rabbit. Rei is asked by the young girl to give the little critter a name, and, with a slight giggle, she suggests Usagi.
Later that night, she and Jian share a laugh over it as they watch the moon rise- a perfect half-circle. And when the clock strikes the hour that marks the halfway point in the fifteen day celebration, he leans in and kisses her slowly, tenderly. The warmth and sweetness of it lingers with her even after she retires to her own room for the night.
The day before they are set to go back home, fifteen days after their arrival, dawns clear and frosty. Lady Liu and Shu Li, in preparation for the Lantern Festival and the final day of the Chinese New Year celebration, get ready to go back down to the village to visit the markets. They invite Rei to come along, and in the fifteen days, she has learned to relax around them and not hesitate in accepting the invitation. Shu-Li chatters a mile a minute about her new pet- Rei doesn't speak enough Chinese to comprehend exactly what she says, but Shu-Li had taken her advice about naming it Usagi, after all.
They make their leisurely way through stalls selling fresh fruits and vegetables and flowers, and alongside the necessary groceries, Lady Liu buys all of them candied hawthorn from a street vendor for a treat as a mother might for her children, and the simple gesture of being handed sugared berries on a stick touches Rei more than any stilted, awkward birthday dinners with her father ever had. She doesn't have the words to thank Lady Liu, but from the woman's smile makes her think that she understands.
Lady Liu also buys a potted lucky bamboo plant for her husband, and Rei deduces from Shu-Li's explanations that Master Yang had given his wife, at dawn, a beautiful orchid plant heralding spring and symbolising love. She suddenly recalls Jian's words, when he told her about the various Chinese New Year customs, and how the last day of the festivities was often also considered a special holiday for lovers.
Maybe she's not as subtle as she thinks, or maybe the little girl is just too smart for her own good, because Shu-Li takes her hand and smiles. "Jian-Er likes peaches and plums."
The moon is full, a perfect, pearly white orb in the sky, and even from the temple at the top of the mountain, Rei can see the lanterns lining all the trails and streets in the village as the youth perform their traditional lantern dance, countless dots of light connecting together in patterns and streams. Shu-Li is among the performers and they had all watched the start of the festivities, but Jian and herself had returned early to pack.
Tomorrow they would board a train that would take them back to Shanghai, and then they would return to Tokyo. Fifteen days, which had seemed like a long time before she'd come, had passed by in a flash.
Jian emerges from his room to join her at the door, cupping her elbows with his strong, calloused hands and pressing his lips against her hair. She leans back against his warmth and feels, rather than sees, his lips curving into a smile.
"Did you enjoy your time here?" he asks. "My parents love you, like I knew they would."
She nods, and lets him wrap his arms around her waist and pull her close, resting her weight against his body. She had always chafed at the idea of leaning against a man, being supported by one, relying on one. All her life, it had been not only prudent but necessary to stand on her own and support herself. But this is different.
She leans back and he leans forward, and their weights support each other. She gives him redemption, aspirations and millennia-long love. He gives her faith and understanding and devotion as eternal as the mountains around them. They are both independent people, but they need each other to be whole, and this time around, their love, instead of making them vulnerable, strengthens them both.
"I got you something at the market," she tells him, leading him back inside the temple. She picks up the rosy peaches and amethyst-coloured plums in the willow basket and hands it to him somewhat bashfully. "Your sister said you liked peaches and plums."
A startled expression crosses Jian's face, and Rei watches as he rakes his hands through his hair, ruffling the golden locks. Then his lips curve up in a rueful smile. "She knows me too well. I didn't say anything about my plans, but..."
Rei stares at him in bewilderment and watches as he unlocks a drawer in a cabinet and pulls out a flat, square-shaped box. He hands it to her, and she undoes the catch to reveal a stunning jade bangle, translucent white with two flares of blood-red gleaming against the white jade and pale yellow satin like flame. The bracelet looks as though it could have been hewn from the same stone as his namesake sword and when Jian places it in her palm, it is icy against her skin.
"There's an old Chinese poem," Jian mutters a little distractedly. "A young woman gives a young man peaches and plums, and he gives her jade in return, and when she protests that his present is too rich, of unequal value with hers, he tells her that her love and friendship mean more than any riches in the world, and they promise to love each other for all of eternity." There is a hint of nervousness in his dark blue eyes, but stronger than that is a steadfast love that can move mountains. In this eternal land, in this moment under a perfect full moon, all their past and present and future lives meld into one as he holds her hands and her gaze with his own. "The words are thousands of years old, and they're still true. We've loved for thousands of years, not always wisely or happily. But I'll love you for a thousand more. I've loved you before I even met you, before I even knew you, and I've lost two lives not being with you. I don't know what the future holds, only what I want from it, and that's you."
She is shocked to find herself blinking away tears, and through the haze of them, she can see him smile diffidently. And at his next words, her breath catches in her throat.
"I think my family knew, even though I said nothing. The calligraphy charm my sister wrote for your door was for happiness in love, the paper cutting my mother put on your window was for unity. They know me, they know my deepest wishes. Will you marry me?"
His hand is strong and warm over hers, the jade bracelet cool and smooth clasped between their palms, and she can't speak. But she nods, and slips the bangle over her wrist, and as a smile of pure happiness crosses his face, he picks her up and twirls her up in the air. She links her arms around his neck even as he sets her back down, and meets his lips halfway.
The clock strikes; the fifteen days of festivities are at an end. But it is a new year, a new beginning.
And for the two of them, it is the beginning to the rest of their lives.