The Wandering Age
Necessity
She had always been a woman of few words. In her native land, she was known as a statuesque, silent beauty. Many men in her tribe tried to capture her heart, and those men failed miserably. When she was transported across the sea as a slave, picked for her beauty and submissive nature, she could not verbalize her confusion to the men and women around her.
"Veha," she would try to say, "my name is Veha!"
But language was tricky. The island girl was at a loss for words.
Veha continued to be at a loss for weeks more. Even after landing in Japan, and staying in a complex for at least two months, she said no more than two words. Upon the auction block, she said nothing, even as she was taken by a cruel master.
Indeed, he was a cruel master, one who used her as a sort of exquisite human trinket to show off at parties He spoke an elegant language, yet his voice made it sound so awful and horrible. Veha hated the man, and his home (suspiciously called a dojo, like the evil spirits in her culture), and his volatile wife. The others at the dojo paid no heed to Veha, so Veha granted them the same courtesy.
One evening, the man, his family, and the others at the dojo were sent into fervor by a virulent rumor. Veha did her best to ignore the tumult as she washed dishes, but one of the attendee's wild movements sent Veha flying to the ground. The pot she had been scrubbing shattered as she hit the ground. The dojo fell silent; the man was fuming. As his wife disappeared and his friends looked on, the man beat Veha soundly. She wept, but the man paid no heed and kept hitting her. A yellow blur leapt off the roof and snuck into the dojo, but no one saw.
The yellow blur proceeded to engage the members of the dojo. The man finally stopped his abuse, trying to defend his dojo and its so-called honor, but the man was no match for the yellow blur. Veha tried to hide from this madman – these madmen – but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to run. The yellow blur had already seen her, anyway.
Once the yellow blur stopped moving – once all the dojo's male protectors had fallen – Veha noticed that it was a man, one more innocent-looking and nobler than her master. Veha, thinking of nothing else she could possibly do, stared blankly at the man in yellow. She noticed the cardboard tube in his hand and the straw hat on his head. The cardboard tube man beckoned for Veha to follow. So she did. She never returned to the dojo.
Veha spent the rest of the year recovering from her wounds and following the cardboard tube man on his journeys. He taught Veha many things – about the rains, about the snows, about the provinces, about the local lords, the daimyos. However, she loved learning the elegant language of the people most. The cardboard tube man would teach her words, things to say. Soon it became second nature for her to speak his language over her own. Ohayo, godaimasu, she would say in the morning. Gomen nasai, she would scream in the afternoon, usually as she cooked. Veha felt her shell opening and her mind broadening. She no longer wore the clothing of her village, but a kimono she had fashioned herself. She began to call the cardboard tube man Samurai-sama, showing him her gratitude.
No doubt he taught her much – how to behave, how to speak, how to walk. How to dance, how to sing, how to trick people, how to empathize with others. How to love.
And yet Samurai-sama had to leave Veha behind. After a year of being with her, after weeks of sleeping beside her, he took her to the home of the most powerful daimyo in the province, and left her there.
The lady of the house, Ashiya Kunoichi-dono, took Veha in, somehow knowing that she needed a place to stay. Veha, however, was a strange girl, in Kunoichi-dono's eyes. She cried night after night, and during the day she barely spoke. The daimyo of the Kunoichi estate, Masato Kunoichi-dono, along with Ashiya Kunoichi-dono, tried to get his houseguest to open up to them. Finally Veha spoke. She surprised her landlords with her elegant prose and mastery of their language.
Veha spoke of the dojo, of its cruel masters, and how she met Samurai-sama. She told the daimyo and his wife of their travels and how he taught her the Japanese way of life, not to mention nihongo – Japanese. She could not bring herself to tell them about how she loved Samurai-sama with a passion, but it was plainly obvious in her speech.
The daimyo and his wife soon accepted Veha as the daughter they never had. Clothed in the finest robes and with her hair properly kept, Veha became, once again, an exotic beauty. Her blonde hair made her quite the curio in the temples and the town. Again, as in past times, many suitors vied for her hand.
Ashiya Kunoichi-dono drove away many a poor choice for Veha, but one day an offer the family could not refuse reached him. The most powerful daimyo in the land had asked Masaton Kunoichi-dono for Veha's hand. Veha had seen this man, and had no qualms about his appearance – he seemed a strong, upstanding gentleman.
But he was not Samurai-sama.
Ashiya Kunoichi-dono held this powerful daimyo in high regard, and Masato Kunoichi-dono told Veha, as she practiced her ikebana (flower arranging), that this daimyo, the Honorable Shô Arakawa-dono, was second in power to the shogun and just as influential. A marriage to him would ensure prosperity and peace for Veha's entire life.
After many nights of thinking, Veha shoved aside all of her heart's yearnings and agreed to marry Shô Arakawa-dono.
As Veha readied her belongings, preparing to travel to Kyoto, the nation's capital, for her impending wedding, she thought of her dear Samurai-sama. Leaving on horseback with a very genial Shô Arakawa-dono, Veha wondered what would become of her after she became a daimyo's wife. As she saw the beautiful pagodas towering over the Kyoto skyline, Veha swallowed her doubts. After all, Samurai-sama had left her nearly five years ago. He was not coming back, Veha assured herself weakly.
The court of Kyoto was the most extravagant place Veha had ever been in. At least four ladies-in-waiting were constantly delivering Veha wedding robes, hair pieces, powders, lip sticks, charcoals, and countless yukatas and kimonos. The life of a courier was exhausting to the island girl, but she kept telling herself that there was no other choice.
The day of the wedding arrived. Veha was so ill that she could barely think straight. Shô Arakawa-dono had gone to the shrine, to pray for good fortune, but Veha had decided to ready herself for the ceremony, tying her obi (sash) around her waist and putting powders and lipsticks on herself. She asked a particularly bored lady-in-waiting to place her hair into a bun. As the lady-in-waiting did her hair, Veha stared out the window at a dead cherry blossom tree. It was winter, after all – the time of death. Veha shivered when a knock reached her ears. That was the signal.
Veha walked gracefully out of her quarters, flanked by the ladies in waiting, down a multitude of corridors, into the main hall, where the entire court – and Shô Arakawa-dono – was waiting for her. Veha rid Samurai-sama from her brain and elegantly stepped down the final hallway.
As the ceremony was performed, Veha began to think optimistically about her future. She looked at Shô Arakawa-dono with a smile, ready to take the plunge. Shô Arakawa-dono smiled back at her. He was very kind, kind enough to not ask questions earlier, and kind enough to accept that she was not your most talkative woman…
A sudden flash of metal and spray of blood flew across a nearby window. The women screamed, and the men all grabbed for their katana. One man said that it could only be the Akimichi clan, sworn enemies of the Kyoto court. The men ran out to defend their city and their honor, leaving Veha to watch Shô Arakawa-dono lead the way. The clang of swords served as background music to the chorus of ear-shattering screams. Veha ran out of the main hall as quickly as she could, desperate to see her suitor one last time. As she ran to the front gate, she heard one last shriek of pain. Veha's heart stopped as the gate flew open in the wind, snow from the ground kicking up around her feet.
So many of the men were dead, and no one, not even those who lived, were stirring. Veha quickly scanned the area and found Shô Arakawa-dono.
He was dead.
Veha leaned over him, shaking her head and keeping back tears. Now she was doomed. What did love matter? Shô Arakawa-dono was a genuinely good-hearted person, one willing to put up with her mysterious words and quiet demeanor. He loved her, and that was enough to justify his goodness. Veha could not believe her almost inhumanly bad luck.
A swooping noise echoed behind Veha. She turned, and saw nothing. As she moved back towards Shô Arakawa-dono, an Akimichi clansman lunged towards her, a kunai knife pointed at her heard. Veha swiveled around far too late, and the icy fingers of death gripped her spine as she inhaled sharply. Her eyes shot to the ground, avoiding the possessed face of her assailant.
A sudden dull crack reached Veha's ears. Veha peered upwards. A lone samurai stood over the would-be assassin. The island girl would have fainted if it were not for the fact that she recognized the samurai.
"Samurai-sama!" Veha cried out, trying to move in the thick snow. She was finally able to run to him, throwing herself into his arms. The tears she had been holding back flowed freely down her cheeks. Veha tried to explain everything to him, all of the things that she had done, but a string of babble came out instead of a story. Samurai-sama said nothing, listening with a passive face.
Veha began to apologize awkwardly for accepting Shô Arakawa-dono's proposal, all the while trying to explain that it had been years since she had seen him, and that she never meant to betray him, still sounding like a lost foreigner in the process. Samurai-sama finally put a finger to her lips. Soon his own lips replaced the finger, gently silencing Veha's clumsy attempts at catching up. After a few seconds of pure bliss, he pulled away, leaving Veha dazed. Samurai-sama let her go.
"Wait for me," he whispered into her reddening ear before bounding off.
Veha could hardly breathe. Her knees buckled below her, sending her to the ground. Her tears had grown out of control, and her lips quivered, although they were perfectly warm.
She had so many things to say. Burying her face in her hands, she was going to say nothing. But Veha realized that, whenever she said nothing, she ended up even more lost and in an even more dire situation.
With her last reserves of strength, Veha screamed her response out to the wind, and Samurai-sama.
"Ai shiteru!" Veha yelled, recalling her last language lesson with Samurai-sama.
Ai shiteru, he had said, meant I love you. But it was more than that. It was not a phrase to bandy around. It was something you said to someone who completed you, someone you could not bear to live without. Veha felt it applied.
And she fell backwards, energy expended. Thankfully, her screaming had roused one of the unconscious couriers, who took her into the main pagoda and laid her in her chambers. Upon awakening, Veha found herself feeling completely empty. The court and its lush gardens and brilliant buildings could no longer satisfy her. All they did was bring painful memories into her heart. So Veha packed her things and left Kyoto, intending to return to the Kunoichi estate.
Ashiya and Masato Kunoichi-dono had heard about the tragedy at the court before Veha arrived home. What they hadn't heard about was how her beloved Samurai-sama had left her yet again.
Veha's homecoming was torturous for both her adoptive parents and her. Veha wept so bitterly that nothing could console her. Masato Kunoichi-dono did his best, but he could find no trace of the Cardboard Tube Samurai. Ashiya Kunoichi-dono listened to Veha's travails over and over again, but nothing new was ever unearthed. After a few months of this disheartening sorrow, Veha began to slowly repair herself. By the time the cherry blossoms bloomed again, Veha stopped crying over Samurai-sama, instead rejoicing that the sakura had triumphed over the winter of death. The Kunoichi family was at peace again, and would remain that way for a few years.
In the back of every mind at the Kunoichi estate was the inevitable return of the Cardboard Tube Samurai. Since Ashiya Kunoichi-dono did not know when this would be, she continued to wave off potential suitors. Masato Kunoichi-dono continued to hone the sword making skills of both his village and himself, ensuring prosperity for his province and his daughter.
Veha did not talk very often, for she found that too often words were taken and manipulated in ungainly ways. Boys in the province would proclaim their love for her, but she would smile and gently let them down, in an unambiguous way, before setting out to the shrine. At the shrine, Veha would pray for the only thing she wanted - Samurai-sama to come back to her. Then she would speak the way she was meant to again, she promised herself. She would remind herself how to love again, once the time came.
Because, in her heart, there was only room for one man: her beloved Samurai-sama.
fin
A/N: It's supposed to sound very archaic. I felt that conveyed the tone of the CTS strips in Penny Arcade the best. Sorry if this sucks, it's my first time writing for PA.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own PA, and if I did own it, Gabe/Charles would be the first priority! Teehee just kidding…