AN: I watched a Korean drama. The ending inspired this story. You're probably gonna hate it. I highly suggest that you listen to the given musical pieces designated for each part. Or not. It's your choice. They inspired the mood for me when I was writing each part of this story.
{Toadstools}
[Part I: Into the Forest; Near the Trees]
Theme: (Grieg) Peer Gynt Suite No. 1: Morning Mood by Einar Steen-Nokleberg
Her round cobalt blue eyes bore at the small white round bulbous head protruding from the earth. Their are several of them stationed near the cherry trees.
Spring has arrived and nature is an explosion of myriad of bright colors. The trees and the grass are lush, the flowers abloom boasting shades of assorted chroma that the bees and insects so adore and praise as they collected the sweet nectar of their lifeline.
Their fragrances wafted through the air compelling her earlier to cup every type of blossom and caressed their petals. She sampled each flowers' scent finding most of them agreeable and the rest just made her sneeze and gave her a headache.
But she was mostly interested in the pink and white blossoms of the cherry tree. She remembers herself and her mother lounging under the foilage of the trees seeking shelter from the bright and warm afternoon sun. They would have lunch under the foilage and just watch the petals be plucked by the mischievous wind painting the blue sky with specks of pink. It is one of her earlier memories.
She approached the trees and her sinuses are tingled with the smell of wood and damp earth. The redolent scents brings her comfort and ease. It's the smell of familiarity. Of home.
She came closer and she can't stop her eyes from seeking the white round things growing near the compost of decaying leaves.
As she neared, she can see that they all have long thin stems with a thin sheet of white flesh covering the top just below the head. Their colors are sickly. Like the color of the skin when one is clutched by a deathly illness.
Her mother collected this things. They had it for dinner last night. Although the ones they ate are different. They have the color of the earth, the brown of wood. And they taste robust and very agreeable with the soup. They look like mice ears. She almost played with it until her mother sharply told her to eat. And so she ate. It's been the first time in months that she had slept peacefully without enduring the grumbling and sharp pains of her stomach.
What has her mother called them again? Mushrooms? Yes, mushrooms.
When the coins are few and they couldn't afford the market, the forest is the second option. Here, everything is free. Here, there are no nosy gossips and mean people who asks about her hair or sniffing while they criticize her mother's civil status. Here, she is happy and accepted. The animals left her alone enough and a few times they would let her pat their pelts and scratch them behind their ears which makes her ecstatic whenever she sees their blissful faces. And the bunnies. Especially the baby bunnies. They are adorable!
She crouched down and ran her forefinger on the head of one of the mushrooms. Should she pick them? Yes.
It's high time that she help around the house. Her mother is very busy with sewing. In fact, she is the best seamstress this village has to offer. She made the kimono she is wearing. She sewed half of the clothing that the village children wore and they have the gall to look down at her mother.
They should be ashamed of themselves.
She started plucking the big ones from the earth with more force than necessary.
The old hags are the worse.
"You're not married?! Then, who is the father of the girl?"
"Child, maybe you should've thought things thoroughly before spreading your legs. Then, perhaps you would've had your husband."
"Just what we need. A bastard."
Her fist clenched the white flora in her hands.
Her mother would only bow her head in shame or answer politely at them. As if they deserve to be respected.
At her age, she can already understand the implications and the standards of society. No honest woman would be living alone with a child without a husband to show for.
She took one last look at the pink blossoms then started off home. Her mother should be back by now from the shop preparing for lunch. They could add these mushrooms for flavor and quantity.
Sometimes, she would wonder about the identity of her father. The first time she asked the whereabouts of her father, her mother became rigid. She paused for a long while then continued on with her work.
She can clearly see that she had upset her mother so she would just shut her mouth and watch the flowing silks and garments be transformed into beautiful clothing.
Her mother still garnered a handful of suitors willing to marry her despite her child's presence. Why not? In her eyes, her mother is the most beautiful woman in the whole world that even Amaterasu would envy her beauty.
She had refused every single one. Mostly because of the lack of attraction but the others because of her daughter's influence. Her opinion is the most crucial criteria in the wooing business.
Once she had shown dislike for the candidate, her mother would let him down softly and steadily. One man reacted violently and started insulting them bringing up her paternal heritage. Her mother was quick to respond and she had let out insults and jabs until the man's face has the color of a tomato. His companions were left clutching their stomachs due to laughter and the man walked away tail between his legs.
The incident circulated around. The village gossiped about it for a week. Most of the children would tease her and kick her bucket whenever she draw water from the well. Until she had thought enough is enough. And so, she punched the boy who loves kicking her buckets. Silence followed. She continued with her chore eyes following her every movement. After that, no one dared to bother her again.
She saw the smoke rising from the back of their humble home. The smell of cooking meat made her mouth water and her stomach growl. Business must have been good today.
She sprinted towards the door carelessly removing her slippers. She hurriedly went to the kitchen and set the mushrooms on the counter.
She can already feel the if smile creeping on her lips. Finally, she contributed to the table.
She cleared her throat. Her mother slowly glanced behind her and she has a smirk painted on her lips with one brow arch.
Her mother's smiles are always so mysterious. You'll never know the meaning behind each one. She tried emulating them once near the stream using the calm waters as a mirror. But try as she might she just can't imitate her mother.
Her mother's smile turned into a frown then her brow wrinkled with confusion. She watch the slow widening of her eyes and the slackening of her jaw. Horror. And fear. Then she realized her mother is looking at the counter. Where she placed her sickly white bounty.
AN: Hello! Midterms are over except for that one minor subject that loves to irritate a student. Hey, a little help. Could someone explain to me the traditional clothing of the Japanese during the 15th century. I want to make this as historically accurate as possible. Oh, and also the environment of the capital during those times. And the festivals. Don't forget the festivals.The internet is unreliable and inaccurate sometimes. Just PM me about it.
Also, I want to interact with you guys so I thought about this. I'll let you name our little protagonist. Since I started writing this I didn't have a clue on what to name her. All of your suggestions would be considered.
Thanks for reading! Until next time.