Frost
I would not have asked
But as ice spread through evening
You offered me warmth.
As the sky grew wider, it seemed that it would swallow him up into the storm-gray clouds. Through a mountain pass they walked, the sky darkening with each pebble-rattling step down the dusty trail. But resolutely, Suzu turned his eyes toward his master, and continued forward.
On the road to destiny, they could not afford to pause to wonder at the scenery.
As they traveled away from the sea, looking for all the world a masterless ronin and his page, it slowly became more and more silent. Birds and the rustle of wind through the leaves of the trees filled in the sound where the ocean used to be.
No longer was the ocean to the rising sun. No longer could he ascertain where the weather was coming from. And the sky, that horrible, endless gray, unlike the choppy seas that changed with the season, light to dark, roiling to peaceful, spread out all over them.
Suzu wasn't sure whether to feel claustrophobic or agoraphobic.
It had been his first time away from the sea; he had never thought to leave it. The thought of leaving it was like death; but the idea of staying was worse.
He startled; there was a knocking sound in the still, still air. Like the empty hollow rattle of wooden sticks. Like the clatter of dry bones. Monsters lurked in the mountains, that, everyone knew.
"Sensei..." His hand wandered to his sword. His brother's sword, the simply wrapped hilt a comfort to his palm.
"Stand down." Yoshida did not deign to look back. "It is only bamboo."
And sure enough, as they continued he saw tall stands of thick bamboo, taller than a rich man's house, swaying in the growing wind, their heavy stalks clattering against each other harmlessly.
He sighed, nearly boneless from relief. The world past the boundaries of the sea was a strange place indeed.
Suzu only wished he could see the sun. But above, it was only a faceless gray. He wondered if his pale hair would darken and his skin would lighten in this climate, suited only for gray mushrooms and pale-skinned samurai.
-----
Before nightfall, it began raining. They were ahead of schedule -- his master had planned it that way -- so by the time the first droplets fell, they were in the shelter of an abandoned farmhouse. Long ago, it had been partially burnt out, yet still it had enough thatch to keep them mostly dry, though occasional drops wriggled through the eaves to drip onto his head. The fields around them were parched dead; the farm had failed so long ago that no one had ever bothered trying again.
Suzu wondered if there were ghosts.
He hadn't remembered the last time he had been so physically miserable; cold, chilled, damp from the rain, and hungry.
Yoshida had disappeared, returning with cakes of formed rice, wrapped in slightly moldy and mouse-bitten bamboo leaves, but surprisingly fresh inside. Suzu didn't question it, only picked around the bad parts and ate it, even though it had the faint musty odor of mold to it.
It was only after when he realized he should have asked where the provisions came from.
"Our agents. Be grateful that they provide what they can." Yoshida said no more on the matter, slowly eating his own rice thoughtfully. They drank rainwater, caught in a chipped porcelain cup.
-----
The rain stopped as quickly as it came. As night fell, it grew colder, clouds replaced by wind, the remnants of rain blown away by icy gusts. The ruined walls of the farmhouse were of little use to protect them.
"Sensei, may I light a fire?" It took hours for him to ask; he felt as though he was at the very verge of his endurance of this cold. Suzu didn't want the man to think he was soft. But yet, he was. Inland, the heat of the day was dramatic; the cold of the night was too. It was impossible to imagine that away from the tempering effect of the sea, that weather could be so...extreme.
"No." It was all Yoshida said, his eyes catching the gleam of faint moonlight. "We should not do to be seen."
"They might think it an oni..." Suzu began, trying to reason his way through it. If their enemies thought a fire was supernatural, all the more reason to leave them alone, right?
"An oni...does not leave the trace of ash." Yoshida's voice was calm, without reproach. "We who are humans cannot do such a thing. So you will learn to endure."
Embarrassed, Suzu could feel his cheeks heat in the darkness.
"I'm sorry, Sensei."
"Don't be sorry. I want you to learn." Emotionless. It seemed impossible for his new master to show the hint of anger, of emotion.
Suzu resolved to learn from this.
I will be cold inside too. I will be cold. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine that, but it only made him feel cold outside as well.
As night wore on, he tried to feel tired, knowing tomorrow would bring more walking, but it was hard when he was shivering. He bit his lip to keep his teeth from chattering, and blew on his fingers until he realized that didn't work. His tabi felt paper-thin against the damp cold; his kimono was too light. Even the weight of the hakama which had at first so long ago felt like a burden was a welcome layer of possible comfort.
He hunched into himself, hands on each opposite shoulder, neck tucked between his crossed wrists.
Across from him sat Yoshida. Whether he was watching Suzu or merely resting his eyes...it was impossible to tell in the light.
The moon rose, a white ghost sowing white frost in the ruined fields. A glowing halo surrounded it, and Suzu's breath caught, seeing – no, feeling the air crystallize with ice.
Yet he held his place across from Yoshida. Curled up into himself, wondering how his master seemed to not feel the cold as it crept through the farmhouse, limning the wooden floorboards with a sheen of moon-touched silver frost.
He could see his breath as it moved, and the tips of his damp hair began to freeze stiff.
Suzu did not ask for fire again. Presently, it crossed his mind that he was getting tired. So curled up like that, his eyes closed, and he began to doze.
"The bright moon shone before my bed,
I wondered -- was it frost upon the ground?
I raised my head to gaze at the clear moon,
Bowed my head remembering my old home."
Yoshida's voice was like a ghost in the night. It startled him to wakefulness.
"Sensei?"
"An ancient poem, yet the words still hold true in this modern time. On a night like this...one can only think of home, where it is safe and warm. It takes courage to step away from that. Suzu." Yoshida beckoned him, his broad calloused hand like porcelain in the wash of the pale moonlight.
Quickly, mindless of the cold, Suzu got to his feet, coming toward his master. "Sensei?"
"You are young still, too young to catch your death from the cold. Your tenacity is admirable; I would have expected..." A little smile from beneath that curtain of black hair, hinting at a joke perhaps. Suzu wasn't sure what he should do, so he kept his face grave and earnest. "Tonight, I will make an exception." Gently, those hands turned him so his back was facing his master, and he was drawn close.
"Lie back. I will for tonight, keep you warm."
Frost clung to the sleeve of Yoshida's black kimono, a detail he would never forget. Yet leaning against the man, nervously because he didn't want to be a burden or cause him discomfort, it was warm even through the clinging ice.
"Relax." A voice whispered against his ear. "I will protect you."
And he did. It was the first night he had slept dreamless since his brother died.
The next day his master bought him a long scarf. It was white, like his hair, and Suzu wore it with pride.
After that, Suzu would walk through fire and ice for the sake of that man.
-----
Poem titled "Night Thoughts" by Li Po.
Haiku by Jekka.