Birth of Fire
A Before the Ronins Story
Author's Note: This is a COMPLETED short story. To best view this story, please visit my Ronin Warrior Wing on my web site -- http://www.geocities.com/libraryoflegends/
She ran through the forest, giggling as the wind whipped through her long black hair. Sunlight filtered through the green boughs, setting a dazzling array of dark and light patterns on the dense foliage. Wizened oaks and cherry trees stood guard over her, their branches sheltering the little clearing which she had adopted as her playground. Tiny flowers of pink and red poked above the grasses and she bent to pick them, scattering the petals to the breeze in pure ecstasy. Her sapphire eyes followed the flight of birds above and she strained her neck to get a view of a robin and her nestlings. It was only when she tired of the game that she settled herself in the bushes, spying on a mother and her newborn fawn.
Suddenly a flash of white caught her attention and she looked up with curiosity brimming in her eyes. Abandoning the deer, she crept out of the shrubbery and darted stealthily about the trunks, trying to identify the flash. She spied it again a few meters away and decided that it was far more interesting than what she had been doing thus far. Heedless of the danger it might pose, she took off after it, barely able to suppress her smile of delight at the diversion.
The flash of white was always one step ahead of her and she nearly lost it in the dense forest several times. But each time, diligent searching again revealed the object. Once, she was even close enough to identify it. It was a white tiger; immense in size with broad black stripes running down its sides. She was startled for even she was old enough to know that white tigers did not exist at this low of an altitude. The tiger was soon off again and reason flew out the window as she pelted after it.
They played a game of cat and mouse for much of the day when finally she stumbled on a little clearing deep in the heart of the forest. A tiny thatched cottage lay off to the side, a thin veil of smoke escaping from the stone chimney. A well of weathered gray stones and wooden beams lay in front of it. The tiger was nowhere in sight but there was something else that caught her attention. A monk in white robes sat cross-legged next to the well, eyes closed and brow furrowed in deep concentration. The sweet smell of incense burned from a candle in the dirt circle in front of him. Once again curious, she bounded up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.
"What are you doing Ojii-san?"
The monk's eyes flew open at the inquiry and he regarded the little girl in front of him thoughtfully.
"Enjoying the peacefulness of the day," he smiled warmly, "And what are you doing here little one?"
"I was playing and then I saw a white tiger so I followed it," she giggled, "It was real pretty. I want to see it again."
The monk laughed at her gay demeanor, "Perhaps you will."
"Is it here?" her eyes darted around the clearing excitedly.
"Not right now." Her face fell and the monk laughed softly, "Don't worry, you will see it soon enough. And where are you from?"
"My family has a little cabin down there," she pointed vaguely somewhere to the west, "But I really come from the city."
"And do you like it here?" the monk asked conversationally.
"I LOVE it here! There's so many animals to play with and everything is so pretty!"
"Yes it is," the monk sighed, his eyes straying to the cherry trees, their pale pink and white blossoms flourishing on the boughs. He turned back to the girl and stared into her sapphire eyes. There was something special about this girl. He could feel a great fire burning in her soul, but dimmed by an ominous shadow. And yet she was as any girl her age, perky and hyper and innocent.
"What are you thinking about Ojii-san?"
"You have a wonderful heart," the monk said solemnly, almost to himself, "Yet there is a difficult fate set for you, for one must leave this world for another to enter. But it is that someone who will be a virtuous soul and a leader amongst those of this time."
"You talk funny," she said in answer, confused and uncomprehending of his words.
"Yes, I am rambling amn't I?" the monk's face split into a smile. "But it grows late, you should go home before your parents start worrying about you."
She raised her head to the sky and saw it lit with the deep roses and oranges of sunset. "Uh huh. Bye bye Ojii-san!" she waved gaily at him and then was bounding away back through the trees.
Etsuko sat at her desk, hands rubbing her temples as if she had a headache. Her blue eyes closed and she bowed her head, sending the long black strands spilling on the lacquered wood. When she had deemed the time long enough, she slowly opened her eyelids hoping that it had worked. To no avail. The high mountain of paperwork still stood, piled in front of her. No matter how much hoping or wishing she did, the stack refused to go away. She sighed. Work work work. There is never an end to it. Being an editor sure isn't what it's cracked up to be. Well sitting and staring at it wasn't accomplishing anything so with a little groan, she picked an article from the top and began scanning its contents.
No sooner had she begun when there was a knock at her door, startling her and breaking her shaky concentration. "Grrrrr . . ," Etsuko growled with irritation. She placed the article back in her stack, resisted the urge to tear it in half, and instead said pleasantly, "Come in!"
The oak door with its foggy glass window turned on its hinges to reveal the dark brown head of a colleague of hers. She let herself in and tsked at the person behind the desk.
"Tut, tut Etsuko. I see you still haven't gotten anything done," she arched an eyebrow.
"Say nothing Naomi," Etsuko growled with mock menace, "Remember, I reserve the right to cut your paycheck." No sooner were the words out than Etsuko softened her expression to an amused grin.
"You ARE a bitch aren't you," Naomi made a face back at her, "But you know I'm only saying this for your own good." She reached into the golden manila folder under her arm and removed a thick sheaf of papers.
"That's not going in that stack is it?" Etsuko's tone sounded pathetic.
"'Fraid so," Naomi couldn't help but smile slightly as she placed the papers on Etsuko's growing mountain of papers.
"Ah . . ," Etsuko sighed. "You know, this would be a whole lot easier if we just got a replacement photographer. Then I could finally get these articles off my desk," she grimaced. "I don't suppose you found a good potential did you?" and Etsuko's face grew hopeful.
"Actually, that's the other thing I wanted to tell you," Naomi answered, "He just came in today to fill out an application. I took a look at his work and it's pretty impressive. Apparently he's done extensive work for a couple of other wildlife magazines but left them because he wanted to 'try something new.' He's down there now in fact. Would you like to see him?"
"I trust your judgment," Etsuko smiled at her longest standing writer, "You go ahead and bring him in. If we can get this squared away then maybe I can finally get some work done around here."
Naomi nodded, sharing that secret smile between good friends and left in a flurry of black and white skirts, silently shutting the door behind her. Etsuko shook her head at Naomi's antics, but one must expect such behavior from someone like her. I do let her get away with too much, but I can't help it. A smile played upon her lips at the memory but she had no more time to reflect on it when quiet conversation again drew her attention to the door. A creak and the door was swinging open, a man in his early thirties carrying a worn leather briefcase being ushered inside. From behind him, Naomi's face appeared and she gave Etsuko a thumbs up sign before letting the door close with a soft thud.
The man looked about the office room with interest then strode purposefully toward Etsuko's desk where she was regarding him intently. He wasn't particularly attractive or noteworthy; he had short brown hair with darker black highlights and light brown eyes that seemed to smile at her from a well-tanned face. He was clean-shaven and though his clothes were casual, he had an air of formality about him. Etsuko stood to greet him, face split into a smile while at the same time bowing.
"Hajimemashite. You must be the prospective photographer." She stuck out her hand. "I'm Etsuko Kawahara, editor and owner of Natural World. And you are?"
The man bowed back and took the proffered hand, smiling courteously, if rather nervously, back. "I'm Yusuke Sanada and yes I am interested in your photographer position."
Etsuko gestured to the plush beige chair in front of her desk. "Then please have a seat." She took her own and when Yusuke was settled comfortably, leaned forward. "Now, I understand you've done work for several other magazines? What did you do and why did you leave?"
"I've submitted several photographs to National Geographic and various other companies publishing Biology and Zoology textbooks. I'm more of a free-lance worker so I don't work for any one company. I am, however, looking to settle down with a permanent position since free-lance work is becoming unpredictable. I do take of generally anything that I am asked though I prefer to take of wildlife." Yusuke reached into his briefcase to pull out a folder of various photographs. "Here's some examples of my work," he handed them to Etsuko who inspected them with interest. "This one I took on my trip to Zaire," he pointed to a picture of an African elephant silhouetted by a sunset, "And also one of the ones published by National Geographic. This one if of a lemur in Madagascar, and this is a rare Yangtze River dolphin."
Etsuko examined the quality of the photos but could find no fault. The development was exactly right and Yusuke was able to capture the light angle in such a way as to maximize the effect it had on the objects. The wide variety of creatures from all across the globe was another point in his favor and it looked as if he'd been literally everywhere. She let out a sigh of relief. Here at last was the answer to her problems, or some of them anyway.
Yusuke misinterpreted the sigh and looked up with apprehension. "I'm sorry if my photos . . ." He trailed off but Etsuko was already grinning at him.
"Not at all! This is quite excellent work. You have a lot of potential and I would be happy if you would like to work for us if you are still willing."
Yusuke's expression changed in a heartbeat and he was soon smiling. "Still very much interested!"
"Good, when can you start?"
"As soon as you need me."
"In that case," and Etsuko's expression turned crafty, "I expect to see you bright and early tomorrow to receive your first assignment."
"I'll be there," Yusuke responded with a smile. He stood and bowed formally to Etsuko who did the same and then both clasped hands, blue eyes meeting light brown. Yes, things are finally looking up, Etsuko thought to herself as she watched Yusuke leave, He's going to be a good addition to this team. She whistled a jaunty tune then paged Naomi. She would most certainly want to know . . .
The soft candlelight played on the glossy prints spread across the table, accenting the pictures. The blue green colors of a peacock stood out in bright contrast to the dark gnarled bark tree it was perched upon, its tail feathers falling in a cascading stream of color. A snow white crane bent its head to preen its feathers while its mate stood watch over her protectively, black legs submerged in a flowing stream. A male stag with a full head of antlers was bent over cropping bright green grass leaves while rays of filtered sunlight played on his sandy coat. Yusuke sat nervously nearby taking particular note of the silence as his photos were examined. His eye remained trained on the person opposite him, watching every movement carefully.
Etsuko gently replaced the last picture, an orca leaping from the midst of the ocean against a sunny cloudless sky, in a thick manila folder and glanced at the person on the other side. A grin spread across her lips and she had to make an effort not to laugh at his expression. "Really, are you going to tense up like that EVERY time I inspect your pictures?" she raised an amused eyebrow at him.
Yusuke let out a breath he hadn't know he'd been holding and smiled wanly, "Sorry, I can't help it. You always have such a reproving look when you're looking at them."
"Well I haven't rejected one yet have I?" she laughed, "Actually, from what I've seen so far, I wouldn't be surprised if some of them go up for awards this year."
Yusuke blushed at the praise, "Why, ah, thank you."
Etsuko couldn't help laughing again, "But you didn't bring me here to show me pictures did you?" She cocked her head at him.
Yusuke laughed right back at her, his nervousness evaporating now that inspection was over. "So is there something wrong with taking my boss out for dinner?" he said instead with humor.
"I sense ulterior motives," Etsuko put in mischievously, "Are you asking for a raise?"
Yusuke was doubled over with laughter, "Hmm, now that you mention it . . ," he grinned then shook his head, "Actually, would you believe it's for your company?"
The waiter paused at their table to hand them the bill which Yusuke immediately snagged before Etsuko could grab it. "No," he waggled his finger at her, "It's my treat."
Etsuko pretended to grumble at that then her expression became more thoughtful. "You said it was for my company?"
Yusuke handed the bill and his charge card to the waiter before turning back to face her. "Well yes . . ," he trailed off, unable to say anything more as his throat had quite suddenly closed and his tongue too big to make intelligent conversation.
Etsuko blinked at the face staring at her from behind the candlelight. It seemed to grow more brightly, framing the face she had grown so familiar with. She could feel a flush rise up her neck and spread across her face the longer she stared into the light brown eyes. Without realizing it, Etsuko found herself leaning forward in her seat while she noticed, without the fact really registering, that Yusuke was doing likewise. Their faces came so close that they might touch. Etsuko could feel Yusuke's warm breath upon her face and it sent tickling vibrations down her spine. Her heart acted as if she was running the marathon as their faces grew closer still, her own head tilting and her black hair falling . . .
Abruptly the two realized the less-than-professional position they were now in and both pulled back in alarm. Yusuke looked quite embarrassed and the flush that had crept up his face deepened to scarlet. Etsuko was shocked at what had almost occurred. She drew back further, unable to do anything more than stare at Yusuke with a mixture of embarrassment and bewilderment.
Yusuke stood to greet the waiter who had returned, took his card and receipt, and turned back to Etsuko. He bowed, "It has been a most pleasant evening," he said in a rush, "I shall see you tomorrow at work." And with that, Yusuke was gone, leaving Etsuko to stare at his retreating back.
Etsuko's mind felt like jello as she trudged to her office. The evening incident had left her mind in a most bewildered state and a turmoil of emotions. She wasn't quite sure why she was feeling what she was nor sure where they were to lead if she gave in to them. The distressing thing about it was that it all revolved around a certain man with light brown eyes . . . Etsuko groaned at the thought of Yusuke. She didn't feel like seeing him right now and she had half a mind to turn around and go back home, telling Naomi that she was under the weather. No, that won't solve anything. She sighed. But what to say to Yusuke? How could this happen? Etsuko silently fumed at herself for letting her barriers down and letting her heart get the better of her . . .
She approached her door and noticed that there was a letter attached to the glass window. Curiosity temporarily pushing the distressing situation aside, Etsuko tore open the letter and quickly scanned its contents.
Dear Etsuko,
I'm terribly sorry for what happened last night. Believe me, I never intended anything of the sort to happen. I've decided to take my trip to China early to photograph those pandas and I only hope that the distance will heal any awkwardness between us. I would like to continue to work for you, however if you wish to dismiss me on the grounds that our professional relationship was broken, I understand. I should be back in two weeks. Until then take care.
Sincerely,
Yusuke
Etsuko read over the letter several times, relief plain for anyone to see on her features. And yet, she couldn't help feeling a pang of disappointment that Yusuke wouldn't be around for a while. It was an odd thought to have and Etsuko had to think hard on why she was having it.
You miss him. A voice in the back of her mind said.
No I don't! She answered it angrily, He's been away on longer trips before. Besides, I'm the one that gave him the assignment!
Don't deny it, you're falling for him and you can't stop yourself.
I am NOT in love with him!
You are, notice how your heart skips a beat when he's nearby and your breathing quickens?
Shut up!
Do you remember how you felt when you first saw him?
He was finally filling a position that was giving me a headache. Of course I'd be grateful and relieved! That's not love!
Do you remember how you felt at the restaurant when he was leaning over to you . . .
That's none of your business! Merely a moment of weakness!
Do you remember looking into those puppy dog brown eyes and thinking you could tell them anything and they'd understand?
Well . . . yes . . .
Do you remember how good it felt when he told you loosing the loan wasn't your fault and he hugged you and said he had a friend that would help them out?
Ummm . . .
Do you remember thinking with despair how you were going to get along when he was lying in the hospital after the helicopter he was in crashed?
I . .
Do you remember thinking that you'd do anything to keep him safe even if it meant running after him and risking yourself in the same danger he was in?
I suppose I did . . ..
Do you remember telling him that he would always be a dear friend to you and that you could always work things through no matter what happens?
Yes. I do. I remember . . .
Then how is deep friendship any different from love?
"It's not," Etsuko said out loud and gasped at that knowledge. It was something that had previously escaped her. She couldn't think of this place without his quiet cheerfulness and stoic determination. She couldn't imagine how she'd gotten along without him before he came into her life. Thinking back on the previous night, she realized that she had enjoyed that moment, when the air seemed to be charged with electricity and the fire of passion glowing in the candlelight. And there was something else, the look of keen disappointment in Yusuke's eyes before embarrassment had chased it away. How long has he felt this way? How long has he been dying to say something without knowing if I felt the same way?
"Yusuke. He's more than a friend. I can't believe I never realized that before."
Two weeks. She had two weeks to make her plans. And given the tenacity of the situation, she had better start as soon as possible. Etsuko clicked the key and pushed the door open to her office, intent on getting the day's work done quickly to free herself for the preparations she had to make.
The baggage area of Tokyo Airport was a mad house of various travelers returning from a grueling flight across the Japan Sea. Etsuko was jostled several times as she maneuvered through the endless sea of crowds and she grimaced to herself as she wondered how she was going to find Yusuke in all of this mess. When she was about to lose hope, she finally spotted him removing his duffel bag from the stainless steel carousel off to the far side. Ignoring the rude looks and curses that were being thrown at her, Etsuko pushed her way past the milling people toward the familiar figure heading in the opposite direction.
"Yusuke!"
Yusuke stopped and threw a cursory glance over his shoulder, trying to find the source of the voice.
With that respite, Etsuko was able to catch up to him and Yusuke's eyes widened when he realized who it was that had called him.
"Etsuko? What are you doing here?"
"Yusuke, we need to talk. Do you have anywhere to go right now?"
"Well no," he looked confused, "Not at the moment anyway."
"Do you mind if I take you to some place private where we can talk?"
There was a time when Yusuke would have joked about it, and teased that he couldn't ignore an order from his boss but the atmosphere was one of seriousness that chased away that carefree air of yesteryear. Instead, he nodded with a seriousness to match Etsuko's, for he could not have refused her offer even if he'd wanted to.
Silence dogged their footsteps as Etsuko lead the way to her car. And still no words were exchanged as Yusuke got into the passenger side and Etsuko maneuvered the car out of the airport parking lot. It was only when the little car was well on its way down the highway toward the mountains that Yusuke finally broke the impasse.
"Etsuko? Aren't we going to your apartment?" He asked, once again confused as he eyed the scenery passing by in the windows.
"No, my family owns a little plot of land up in the mountains where we'd spend a few weeks every summer." A small smile appeared on her lips as she recalled the fond memories. "I used to love playing in the forests and spying on all the little animals."
Yusuke had nothing to say to that and silence again reigned between them. The residential houses of suburbia Tokyo were soon left behind and the grassy plains and farmlands stretched into view. Then even those were left behind as the tall granite mountains that made up the spine of Japan emerged into the cloudy skies. The forest spread like a blanket around their base, draped in the red, gold, and orange colors of autumn.
Etsuko turned off the main road and up a little dirt road that meandered straight through the sunset palleted trees. Soon, a quaint log cabin came into view, sheltered amongst the trees, the wood old but still in good condition. Yusuke was struck speechless at the nostalgic atmosphere that emitted from the place. Etsuko was smiling to herself, her childhood memories temporarily chasing away the nervousness of the occasion.
The wind was gentle and rattled the boughs, the ruffling symphony adding to the backdrop of forest melodies. It played amongst the strands of Etsuko's hair, sending it dancing in a flurry of black. In the distance, Mt. Fuji was outlined against the afternoon sky which was rapidly turning rosy and gold. Looking closer, Etsuko imagined she saw cranes flying by against the autumn sky. Cranes. They symbolize longevity. She closed her blue eyes. I hope they bring good tidings for the future. It was a future that Etsuko had no wish to put off any longer and she quickly ushered an incredulous Yusuke into the little cabin.
Yusuke dropped his things on the floor next to the door while Etsuko bustled about, lighting candles to fend off the gloom of night that was rapidly overtaking the landscape.
"Etsuko?"
Etsuko dragged two wicker chairs toward where a fire was burning cheerfully in the fireplace. The bright red and orange flames warmed the little cabin and made the atmosphere light. She motioned for Yusuke to take a seat and when he had done so, settled herself opposite him, both turned toward the fire.
"Yusuke," Etsuko said softly, "I've been doing some thinking while you've been gone and . . ." she trailed off, suddenly losing her composure. Yusuke leaned forward slightly apprehensive and tension hung stagnant in the air. Etsuko took a deep breath and turned her blue eyes toward Yusuke's brown ones.
"I know when you left things were pretty awkward," she said, for lack of a better word, "But I think it really showed me how much things have changed since you came into my office that day."
"I'm sorry for not apologizing in person," Yusuke sighed, "I just couldn't bring myself to talk to you after what happened. But you're right, things have changed since we met for the first time and I can tell that's it not where you want it to go." Etsuko opened her mouth to say something but Yusuke halted her with a wave of his hand. "You don't have to say it. I understand and I was prepared for this. Or rather, I knew something like this was going to happen and I knew what the consequence would be."
Etsuko coughed and Yusuke looked up at her guiltily. "That's not it at all," she said, shaking her head at him, "I mean . . ." She was suddenly angry at herself. "Damn! This is not where I want this to go!" She reached over and clasped Yusuke's hand. "Yusuke, what I mean to say is I feel the same way. I don't want to see you go. You've become a very dear friend to me and friends, they trust one another with their secrets and they don't hold anything back. Between friends there are no barriers and no awkwardness." She leaned closer. "And I think that, as good friends, we've both got some confessions to make. At least, I hope so," she added, her tone both expectant and apprehensive.
"You're right, Etsuko," Yusuke began, "And since I consider you the same way you deserve to know why such a thing happened in the first place." He sighed, "The truth is Etsuko, is that you've become something more a friend to me. When I did my work as a free-lance photographer, I was alone most of the time. I didn't interact with anyone, even when I wasn't out taking pictures. We humans, we're social creatures, we need to be with someone or we forever feel that something is missing. That's why I applied for that position. I was tired of not interacting." He looked straight into the sapphire eyes. "I wouldn't say it was love at first sight, Etsuko, but you were friendly and easygoing. You made me fit right in with the rest of your workers and for that I was grateful. The more I got to know you, the more comfortable I felt in your presence, and I think that comfort is what surfaced that night. I wasn't lying when I said the dinner was for your company. I hadn't meant for things to get as far as they did."
"No, I'm sure you didn't but things like that have a habit for surfacing at the right times. I wasn't helping the situation either. When two people listen to their hearts and not their heads, they see things in their true nature." For the first time, Etsuko let a pale smile play on her lips, "I have to admit I had a hard time believing it too, but when I saw everything, everything that has happened to this moment, I realized that, were you ever to leave, I don't know what I'd do with myself. It's strange," she shook her head, sending the black strands dancing, "I always read about love but I never believed that it would happen to me. It was just something I observed from a distance."
Yusuke's expression melted to one of happiness, "Of all the emotions, love is the most unpredictable, and yet, it is the most exciting." He grinned, reaching up to trace a finger down her cheek. "And if you can make it work, you can live your life not needing anything else at all."
Etsuko returned the caress, leaning closer to Yusuke, "It'll be hard, it's not a fairy tale. You're always away and I usually have to work overtime to get things done but I think we can make this work if we try hard enough." She suddenly let loose a giggle. "But I AM the boss and if we're missing for a day it's not going to hurt anyone . . ."
Yusuke silenced her with a gentle kiss upon her lips and when they pulled away, Etsuko's blue eyes were shining as brightly as Yusuke's brown ones. "I think I'm in heaven," he couldn't help but grin.
Etsuko grinned mischievously, "Not quite yet." She rose slowly to her feet and, still clasping Yusuke's hand, led him to the back room where a full size bed glimmered invitingly under the lights of several candles placed evenly about the room.
Yusuke slammed his foot down, pushing the gas pedal as far down as it would go. The little white car rumbled with the effort of gaining speed but Yusuke wasn't very interested in that fact. He kept glancing to his right where the sound of labored breathing pushed him to a near panic.
"For goodness sake Yusuke! Keep your eyes on the road!"
"Sorry! I'm just worried about you!" He glanced again at his laboring wife. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"I'm fine," Etsuko assured him, even as another contraction rippled her enormous belly. "Just get us to the hospital in one piece. The baby can wait that long, I assure you."
Yusuke gave her an expression that clearly communicated that he wasn't so sure. He turned his eyes back to the road and made an effort to concentrate on driving, and praying that he wouldn't get caught for speeding.
Keeping up a breakneck pace that was barely safe got them to the hospital in record time. Yusuke didn't bother to park his car and instead quickly helped Etsuko out, rushing her to maternity. The nurses took over from there, getting her on a stretcher and wheeling her in to intensive care. Yusuke attempted to follow but was stopped rather forcefully by a round, short statured nurse with brunette hair who told him point blank that he had no choice but to wait in the waiting room.
Yusuke was not very pleased with this situation but had no choice but to comply. Too restless to sit still, he paced back and forth across the room. Minutes stretched to hours and Yusuke kept imaging all sorts of horrible things that could be happening in the back. Why don't they just let the father be there . . ? Grimacing, his face betraying his worry, he continued to pace. He must have tread the same path so much that the threads of the carpet had begun to wear down.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Yusuke saw a doctor with graying hair approach him. Eager and near dead from the suspense and worry, Yusuke nearly bowled him over in his haste to procure any kind of news at all.
"Doctor! How is she?! The baby, is it all right?! Please?!"
The doctor held up a hand to stave the questions. "I can understand you concern," he began slowly, "And I'll get right to the point. You are the proud father of a perfectly healthy baby boy."
Yusuke unconsciously let loose a trill at that but was quickly dampened by the doctor's next words.
"Unfortunately there were . . . complications during delivery and I'm afraid Mrs. Sanada is not doing very well . . ."
Yusuke didn't dally a moment longer but rushed past the doctor to the back hospital rooms, not caring if he was going to be stopped or not. All he could think of was Etsuko's face and the thought of something happening to that face was eating him to pieces from the inside out. The rooms became a blur as Yusuke swept past them. He had no idea which room was Etsuko's but somehow, he was able to find it with no trouble. He barged around the corner and skidded headlong into a circle of nurses surrounding a bed and thus blocking the person on it from view.
"Sir," one of the nurses held up her hand, "You are not allowed back here right now. The doctors need room to work . . ."
"Let me see my wife," Yusuke growled.
The nurse was taken aback by his reply but acquiesced easily enough, moving aside to let him through. His view no longer blocked, Yusuke was able to see the person lying on the bed and the sight shocked him to near tears.
Etsuko lay on the bed, her complexion almost as pale as the sheets that covered her. There was no color in her lips and her eyes were shut tightly against the light. Her breathing was labored and occasionally she would shudder violently. Wires were running from under the covers and hooked up every which way to a variety of machines measuring pulse and pumping IV fluids. Her black hair fell in a haphazard fashion down the sides of her bed and her arms looked limp.
"Etsuko," Yusuke called her name brokenly. He reached her side and took her hand, squeezing it in an almost deathlike grip. Etsuko stirred slightly at the touch but did not wake. "Etsuko," Yusuke called again. Footsteps alerted him and he glanced over his shoulder to find that the doctor had followed him.
"Doctor, what happened?" Yusuke said, tears beginning to brim in his eyes.
The doctor let out a long drawn sigh. "She had a prolonged labor and went into cardiac arrest about halfway through. We managed to stabilize her but there was also severe hemorrhaging causing her to lose plenty of blood. We've got her stabilized on fluids but her system is still threatening to go into shock."
"Well there must something else you can do?!" Yusuke cried out.
"We're trying all we can," the doctor kept his voice calm, "But . . ."
"But I'm not going to make it," a barely audible voice piped up and Yusuke turned toward his wife.
"Don't say that! You're going to be fine!" His tone was almost as if he were trying to convince himself of that same fact.
"No Yusuke. I'm not going to delude myself," she said slowly and quietly. "Please doctor," she pleaded, "Just let me go home and spend my last few moments of life with those I love."
"Etsuko no . . ."
"Yuske," she said gently, "I know I'm going to die. But I don't want to pass here, tied down in a hospital bed with all these machines hooked up to me. Please, you have to understand."
"Etsuko," he began again but couldn't deny the truth of her words deep in his heart. "I . . . all right, if that's what you truly want . . ."
"It is," she said, as forcefully as she was able.
The doctor approached her bedside and looked at her sadly. "Are you sure you want to do this Mrs. Sanada? Hope is not lost, there are still a few things we haven't tried . . ."
"Just please, give me my child," Etsuko whispered.
The doctor bowed solemnly. "I see you are resolved to this course of action. I will get the child immediately." He motioned to one of the nurses and she left with an unreadable expression on her face while the other nurses bustled about, disconnecting the various wires and tubes. The first nurse returned a few moments later, carrying a bundle wrapped in blue and white blankets. She bent and carefully placed that bundle in Etsuko's arms. Etsuko pulled back the blankets and cooed to the tiny child, rocking him back and forth. Yusuke bent closer to Etsuko's side to inspect the miracle of life and Etsuko smiled at him.
"Isn't he beautiful?" she whispered. The baby mumbled and pushed against Etsuko's breast and she smiled again. Yusuke bent and touched his finger to the infant's palms. Almost immediately the baby closed his tiny fists on his finger and Yusuke gasped in surprise then laughed in spite of himself.
"And a strong one too."
"Is there anyway I can change your mind?" the doctor bent toward them, his tone pleading.
Etsuko shook her head, "Thank you for all that you've done. I will remember this, it was no fault of yours that this happened." She smiled weakly.
The doctor bowed again. "Then I wish you luck." Yusuke helped Etsuko, still clutching the baby, from the confines of the bed and half supported her out of the room. As he passed out the doorway, the doctor caught his arm. "Take care of her," he whispered in his ear. Yusuke nodded solemnly and then the two were disappearing, with stumbling steps, down the hall.
The summer air was warm and inviting, yet retained some amount of coolness which it carried from the higher peaks. The surrounding forest shone as a bright blanket of green under the noonday sun. In the clearing the little log cabin stood as it always had, and though the log walls seemed just a tad bit weathered, it retained that element of nostalgic ambience that Etsuko always felt when she came here. How many generations had it seen? How many years had she spent here? And now, as her life was drawing to a close, it was time to pass that heritage on, on to one new to this world. A warm smile played on her lips at the memories. Then her eyes strayed to the tiny bundle cradled in her arms. He had made no sound, eyes staring around and taking in the new sights and sensations of this life. Eyes of blue like the sky above, eyes like hers.
Yusuke helped her into the whicker chair, placing a light kiss on her cheek as he did so. Etsuko looked up into the light brown eyes and saw the memories flash by. The joyous memories of their times together and even the lonesome ones of the many times they had spent apart. Yusuke bent toward the fireplace to light the fire and, for the first time, Etsuko felt the tears well up in her eyes. There were only two things she regretted about this life, one was the regret that she and Yusuke had not spent more time together. The other was the regret that she wouldn't be here to help raise their newborn son. The silent tears streamed down her cheeks and Etsuko held the child close to her, feeling that fear of leaving them, her family behind.
"Etsuko," Yusuke was back at her side and his finger caressed her cheek, brushing away the tears. Looking up at him, Etsuko saw the water marks, the face just as sorrowful as her own. But there was something more, his expression was colored with helplessness and that frustration that came along with it.
Etsuko stopped her tears. She had to be strong so that those she left behind could carry on, assured in the knowledge that she was where she ought to be.
"Yusuke," she mustered all the strength she could, "There was nothing that could be done. I have no qualms about death. It is part of nature, a circle that cannot be broken." She held out her hand, "We cannot dwell on it. We must make the most of each second for life is a precious gift." Yusuke took her hand and helped her to her feet. "Let's go outside," she continued quietly, "I want to see this land for the last time." Yusuke, his throat still constricted from grief said nothing to that but complied with her wishes readily enough.
Outside, the sun had shifted to late afternoon, lengthening the shadows and deepening the colors of the surrounding foliage. Yusuke led Etsuko to an area shaded by a large cherry tree and gently sat her in the grass. Sighing, he settled next to her, placing an arm around her shoulder, holding her close then both turned their attention to the little infant wrapped in blue and white blankets.
He was sleeping that innocent sleep of young children, eyes sealed shut and clutching Etsuko's breast, the few wisps of black hair ruffled by the wind.
"I think we should call him Ryo," Etsuko said softly, hugging the child closer.
"Ryo, it means 'excellent' . . ." Yusuke answered thoughtfully.
"He will be a strong child, capable of anything," Etsuko continued dreamily, "He has told me . . ."
"Who has told you?" Yusuke intoned, confusion painted on his face.
"Take care of him Yusuke. Take care of Ryo. Our future, it depends on it." She coughed suddenly and closed her eyes to the pain.
"Etsuko!"
Etsuko didn't answer. Her fingers grew limp and her breathing slowed dramatically. A smile formed on her lips as her body drew in her last breath. And then everything was still.
"ETSUKO!" Yusuke cried. He felt her wrist for a heartbeat, found none and cried out again in anguish. Tears fell unhindered down his cheeks in wide rivulets and he hugged the limp body close. For a long moment, Yusuke remained in that position, hugging what was left of his beloved while the lonely wind swirled around him. A sudden movement alerted his attention and Yusuke looked down with surprise.
The child had woken up and was staring around him with wide blue eyes. Yusuke bent and removed him from his mother's deep embrace, holding him tightly in his own arms.
"Ryo . . ," Yusuke trailed off and suddenly he saw something drift past him in the wind.
Sakura petals?
He stared around and realized with astonishment that the cherry trees were in full spring bloom, the pale pink and white petals swirling past.
But it's August not April . . .
In the distance, something was approaching and Yusuke narrowed his eyes, trying to identify the figure while holding Ryo protectively. But when the figure drew closer, Yusuke let out a gasp of surprise.
It was a white tiger. A male, Yusuke identified by the size and facial features. Padded feet tread gently on the sea of pink and white sakura petals. Yusuke could only stare but the tiger ignored his incredulous gaze and instead stopped next to the body of Etsuko. He bent his head and gently nudged her. Finding no response, the tiger ducked his head and managed to lift her body, draping her over his back. Turning silently, he reached up and licked Ryo gently on his face. The child stirred, giggling slightly and the tiger snorted. He then raised his head and fixed Yusuke with an intense gaze of brown before disappearing into the distance, his passing marked only by the swirl of sakura petals.
Yusuke shivered at the gaze that remained imprinted in his memory even long after the tiger had gone, bearing away his wife's body. He licked dry lips and gave a cursory glance about at the unnatural array of cherry blossoms in bloom until his attention was drawn inevitably back to Ryo.
The newborn was quiet now, eyes that had followed the tiger's path were now looking intently on his face. Yusuke stared deeply into those eyes of sapphire and thought he saw the irises flare, almost as if a flickering fire were reflected on the corneas. He felt the warmth of the body through the blankets and hugged him tighter.
"Ryo," he said to the infant, "You have your mother's eyes and I know you have her spirit as well. I promise to protect you as long as I am able and I know you'll make us both proud."
With the mystification fading, replaced by determination to care for the legacy that Etsuko left him, Yusuke turned his steps back toward the little log cabin. Behind him, pale pink and white sakura petals swirled in the wind, while cranes flew by a silhouetted Mt. Fuji.
~El Fin~