Chapter 2
"Visitor"
It was dark. There was no light and no sound, just the eerie comfort of oblivion. It was a world of gloom, a world of complete nothingness. She kept walking forward, half-expecting to find something at the very end of this abyss. Where am I? She asked herself, and then she was blinded.
A bright light flashed before my eyes, blinding me for a few moments. Then after a while, I realized I was in a familiar room. It smelled of wisteria blossoms; the scent of freshly burned incense mixing along as it reminded me of nothing more than an ordinary afternoon. But this room seemed different, it felt occupied.
"Mama!"
I snapped my head back to the sound, I knew that voice. It was...
"Sayuri, there's not much time. You need to get away from here."
The sight of long ivory hair took my attention, and I found myself running towards the two figures that were hunched over the entrance of the room. It was a woman and a young girl who appeared to be no older than four. I saw a similar pair of amethyst orbs; there were clear pearls dripping down from them as they looked up to the woman. It was me, I was looking at myself.
"I won't leave without you, Mama!"
"Be calm, my love. You must listen to me-"
A loud crashing noise surprised us; and as I peaked at the entrance, I saw someone had tumbled to the ground. His hair was as fine as raven feathers and he wielded a magnificent Oodachi blade in his hands. He staggered a bit, but he got to his feet quickly and just for a moment, turned toward my direction. A pair of eyes, a shade that resembled that of gold and precious amber, stared at the entrance of the room.
"Go with him, Sayuri. No matter what happens, do not leave his side do you understand?"
I immediately diverted my attention to the woman who spoke. She looked like an older version of myself, but she had the most tender cobalt eyes. There was fear lurking in her delicate orbs; but there was love, an immeasurable amount pouring out as she gazed at the younger me.
She pulled the little girl close, hugging her tightly. As she pulled back, she tenderly touched the girl's cheek and smiled. "He is one of my gifts to you. He will protect you, so you must treat him kindly. You must go now, before they find you."
The woman said urgently, cupping the child's cheek as she leaned forward to plant a kiss on her forehead. "We will meet again, my love. I hope you will not hate me for the decision I've made, but you must remember I did this to protect you. You are my precious little lily and always know that mother loves you."
She pulled her hand away and got up, facing the man with eyes of gold. "Keep my daughter alive. No matter what happens, don't stop and just flee. This is my last order to you as your Saniwa."
"We will come back for you." The warrior said firmly, his face grave. I could see it in his face, he didn't want to leave; not without her. The woman only smiled, reaching out to caress his cheek briefly.
"As long as she is safe, there will be hope. My time in this world is running out; but I promise you, we will see each other again. It may not be in this life, but surely in the next."
"Mama! Don't go, Mama!"
"Promise me! You will protect her! I trust you, Taroutachi!"
I ran after her, reaching out, calling her name. But she was gone... she was...
"Mother!"
Sayuri sat up from her futon, gasping heavily as she gripped tightly on the sheets. Beads of sweat dripped from her forehead, her eyes wide open as she tried to steady herself. "Why? Why is it always that dream...?"
In the comfort of her room, she wept softly; staining her covers with tears. This wasn't the first time she had dreamt of that unbearable memory. Although it had been years since that incident occurred, Sayuri had never been able to conquer such a nightmare. The torment it brought to her emotionally was slowly becoming overwhelming, the anxiety and fear hidden beneath the gentle smiles were beginning to surface. She was afraid but she couldn't tell, for she refused to become anyone's burden. As she cried on her bed, she failed to notice that there was someone listening to her sobs; quietly peaking through a small opening at the door. He had been standing there for a while, watching her as she dreamt. He resisted the urge to go to her, purposely ignoring the pestering feelings that left him uneasy and to some extent, guilty. He glanced into the room one last time before turning to leave, leaving nothing but silence behind him.
Two weeks had come and gone, but it only seemed like yesterday that she was officially appointed as the new Saniwa of the household. It was a quiet afternoon when Sayuri sat near the porch, dressed in a casual kimono as she held a sword in her hands. The sword shined proudly against the sunlight as she polished the well-forged steel, tapping the uchiko ball on the blade with quick but graceful taps. A boy was kneeling next to her, his hands curled into fists on his lap as his eyes were glued to the movements of her hands.
"Now, all that's left is the oil." Sayuri said softly, wiping the last specs of white substance off the sword with a nuguigami. She slightly turned her head to the side, glancing at her companion who appeared to be completely absorbed in the moment. He knelt there; his long navy locks tied loosely behind his back, plum eyes focused with such awe that Sayuri found herself chuckling at the sight.
"Namazuo?"
He perked up at the sound of his name, snapping his head back to look at her. "Ah, it seems I got distracted." The boy laughed at himself, taking the opportunity to move closer to Sayuri.
"How so?" she asked, her hands moving against the sword as she applied clear oil on the blade.
"It's just that, it's nice to look at your hands when they work." Namazuo offered a small smile, raising a hand to his cheek as he scratched it shyly. "Yuri-sama has very pretty hands."
Sayuri blinked in surprise, taken aback by his sudden compliment. As the days passed, the swords had begun to warm up to her; occasionally dropping a few kind words whenever Sayuri least expected it. Although it was slowly becoming a usual thing, she had never grown accustomed to them; finding it rather strange and difficult to get used to. She wasn't sure if they were saying this out of obligation or if they truly were sincere about their claims. There were many standards to beauty, but Sayuri wasn't convinced she fitted any of these categories. Was she being humble? She was uncertain, but often times receiving compliments made her feel rather lonely.
The young saniwa had taken another nuguigami in between her fingers, placing the thin piece of paper on the damp surface of the blade as she carefully wiped off the wet residue.
"That's very kind of you to say, Namazuo."
That was all she could manage to say as she returned a smile; putting her tools away before checking her handiwork. She was holding a wakizashi sword in her hands, the blade shining more beautifully as she raised it closer to the light. She saw Namazuo's reflection on the newly polished steel; he too, was staring at the fine weapon. There were a few questions that lurked in her mind, the kind that made her curious about the true nature of these swords. Were they able to feel the slightest touch of her hands as she held the weapon? Was there a connection between sword and soul? Or perhaps, they were just two separate things altogether? She didn't know, but she was curious to have some answers.
Sayuri lowered the sword as she slipped it back into its saya with a soft click. She brought the sword closer to her lips, giving it a quick kiss on the wooden case where the blade would have been. As she turned back, she was greeted by a flustered Namazuo; whose face was redder than a floribunda tree. Another chuckle came from the young saniwa as she handed him the sword.
"It is my thank you for your compliment earlier."
There was a long pause between them, and just as Namazuo motioned to speak, another voice broke through the silence.
"We're back!"
"Kogi-san!" Namazuo called out, turning his head toward the door. Sayuri rose from the floor as she heard familiar footsteps enter the room. Peaking from the side, a handful of her swords were present; their faces stained with dirt and their clothes less than salvageable. But there was this mixed feeling of relief and a sense of pride that made her smile as she looked at them. They were exhausted and it was evident in their faces, but all of them looked contented; almost happy.
Sayuri stepped out of her hiding spot, quietly approaching the group with Namazuo closely following behind. Kogitsunemaru, Honebami, Souza, Kousetsu, Kanesada and Sayo... Her eyes wandered to each of them, but paused at the little boy with striking blue hair. He had scratches on his face and the clothes she had prepared for him were already worn out. But he looked at her with such calmness that it was almost hard to believe he had been part of a battle.
"You have done well today, Sayo." She praised, reaching out to gently pat the boy's head. Subtle pink hues began to stain his cheeks as he looked down with obvious embarrassment, choosing to remain silent as he accepted her gesture. However, the scenario didn't seem to please a few knowing eyes.
"Hey! Why does he get pats? Pet me too, Master!"
"I am not petting anything that is covered in dirt, Kogitsunemaru." Sayuri chuckled in obvious amusement, playfully tapping his nose.
"In fact, I think everyone should have a nice bath before dinner. Isn't that so?"
"Hm, will we have dessert afterward?" Kanesada asked, slowly approaching the girl. He bent over to meet her height, reaching out to cup her cheek in his palm. "I think I'd like to eat something sweet and soft. One that doesn't squirm when I hold it-"
"I believe we shouldn't be an inconvenience to Yuri-chan." Looking to her side, Sayuri noticed a familiar shade of pink, one that resembled the color of salmon. As she looked up, she saw Souza with a smile that didn't appear to be all too friendly. He had caught Kanesada's wrist, cutting him off before the uchigatana could finish his suggestive humour. The two exchanged glances with messages that Sayuri couldn't decipher, but it was enough to convince Kanesada to pull back and shrug in annoyance.
"We will leave for the bath now, Mistress." A silver-haired boy announced, his face dull and emotionless. He didn't seem to be interested in the little bickering the group was starting and was more than willing to leave the room as soon as possible.
"Ah. Please do lead the way, Honebami." Sayuri replied with a small smile, a hint of thankfulness in her tone. The last thing she wanted was to have the situation end in violence, one of which, she knew the boys were capable of doing even in their injured state.
Sayuri wasn't sure how she ended up inside her quarters. She was there, sitting quietly on her desk with subtle amber light illuminating her now darkened room. She remembered she had prepared dinner for everyone, enthusiastically joining them on the table as they shared a meal together. But then they had begun to talk about her family and then... Ah, yes. It was about my mother.
The swords had gathered around the banquet that was lovingly prepared for them. They were free of dirt and had given up their armor for soft robes, looking fresh and smelling exquisitely good from the scented oils. It was a jolly gathering, just like any other evening in their household. However, not everyone could follow this routine very diligently.
"Sayuri-sama, you and Maiko-sama are so alike!" Gokotai chimed, catching everyone's attention at the mentioning of the late saniwa's name.
"Oh? Why do you say that?" she asked, placing her chopsticks down as she looked at the tiger cub.
He had paused at the question, looking up as he pondered about it for a moment. Then his head snapped back, a wide smile on his lips as he placed his bowl down. "Maiko-sama always did things for us with love; just like cooking our meals. I can feel Sayuri-sama's love in the food." Pink hues were forming on the tip of his cheeks as he said this, the smile unwavering as he looked into his bowl that was filled with rice and beef.
The way he said the words took Sayuri aback, finding the innocence far too sincere to be a lie. There was an overwhelming feeling of happiness that filled her chest. At last, she felt like she had become closer to her swords, even if it was only a little.
"Thank you. I am glad you think that way, Gokotai."
"It's not just the food! You move and talk like her too!" Kogitsunemaru added, his words becoming muffled as he had stuffed himself with rice. She couldn't help but chuckle as she scolded him not to speak while his mouth is full. Soon, Sayuri was overwhelmed with compliments from the boys. Each of them expressing similar traits she shared with her mother; all, except one.
"What are you guys saying? Maiko-san was completely different."
The voices were hushed at the comment; the smile on Sayuri's face began to fade as she looked towards the owner of the voice. It was one of her uchigatana that said it; the boy with the notable red nails, Kashuu.
"She wouldn't abandon us, she never would." There was an edge to his voice that made his words stung, tiny needles piercing her chest as he kept on talking. His eyes were distant and cold, offering no welcome as he looked back at her through crimson orbs.
"I don't see what makes you so special that everyone compares you to Maiko-sama."
"I would never abandon any of you..." Sayuri squeaked, lowering her head.
"People will leave you when you're no longer useful. If they don't leave you, it's either you left or you died. That's how it works."
The air surrounding the table was becoming intense, heavy with bitter emotions that Sayuri could clearly feel as she prolonged the silence. She did not know what to say, for she was surprised by Kashuu's sudden outburst that the words would no longer come out from her now trembling lips. It was Kanesada that chose to be brave as he boldly broke the silence, attempting to lighten the mood.
"Haha! What a silly joke. You know what is really funny? The split ends my hair has, can you imagine? Me, having split ends-"
"Please excuse me. I suddenly feel very tired and would like to retire first. Thank you for having dinner with me." Sayuri cut him off in midsentence, placing her bowl down as she stood from her seat and exited the dining room.
The table was now surrounded by silence once again, as others quietly ate their meals and while some had stopped eating altogether. Mikazuki placed his newly finished bowl on the table, with his chopsticks neatly placed together on top of it. For once, one could see the age etched unto his face as he looked at Kashuu's direction; taking the attention of the young samurai.
"What?"
"You should have not said such things to Sayuri." He said firmly. His usually gentle gaze being replaced with an iron glare that was directed towards Kashuu, who only shrugged as he gave back a sour look.
"It's the truth isn't it? If she wasn't there, Maiko-sama-"
"-Maiko would have protected her, herself. Neither you nor I could have done anything to change that decision."
Kashuu let out a frustrated sigh as he forcefully placed his food down, producing a loud clunk. "Say what you like. She will never be the same as Maiko-sama, so stop saying she is. I'm going to bed."
"We are not done yet-"
The samurai had shut the door behind him, cutting Mikazuki off before he could finish. He gave an exasperated sigh, closing his eyes as his brows furrowed with obvious displeasure. Silence fell unto the table for the second time, and it was Souza who decided to bring an end to tonight's events.
"We should all retire for the night. I believe Yuri-chan would not accept visitors right now." He said calmly, settling his own bowl down. The boys made a quiet agreement, getting up as they left their unfinished meals on the table. It was a waste to leave such good food, but after the little encounter, not a single one of them had the appetite to eat. The room was emptied in a matter of seconds, going back to its usual dull and cold state as the door was slid closed.
Sayuri opened her eyes as she recapped tonight's encounter. She felt hurt, but there was no anger boiling, only guilt. I know it was my fault that mother died. I know. She was aware of the sacrifices that were made to keep her alive and she of all people knew that no one needed to slap it back on her face; for she had been living with this burden even before she took her mother's place as the saniwa. There were tears that ran down her cheeks as she looked out her window longingly. As if she was looking for something, waiting for that one blessing that would come and maybe help her in her saddened state.
A soft knock on her door broke her away from her trail of thoughts, bringing her back to the darkness of her bedroom. She wiped her dampened cheeks with the sleeve of her kimono, quietly approaching the door as she pulled it open. There was no one there to greet her, only the soft murmurs of the late night winds tickling her ears as she looked around.
"Hello? Is anyone there?" she called out, turning her head in both directions in hopes of catching any familiar face. Her calls were left unanswered however, as she looked around in confusion, shaking her head with disappointment. I must be imagining things.
As she slid her foot forward, the sound of rattling porcelain filled her ears. Sayuri immediately looked down and to her surprise; someone had left her a tray of rice cakes with tea. It was a favourite of hers ever since she was a child. She often craved for them whenever she felt under the weather as this was the dessert her mother made on various occasions. She looked at the setup for a while before picking it up, taking one last look around the hall for any signs of visitors. Involuntarily, she found herself smiling at the small gesture. "Thank you." She said loudly to the air, half-expecting that her mysterious visitor would hear her if he was close by. Even if he did, he made no move to offer a reply.
Sayuri went back into her room, quietly closing the door with a soft satisfied click. Just as she did so, a figure rustled in the darkness. He had been hiding against the wooden wall that was a few steps away from Sayuri's room. He was wearing robes of white and deep purple that almost blended with the shadows, his long raven locks flowing effortlessly against the wind as he leaned there, arms crossed. There was a small smile that crept on his lips as he heard her thank you, and not a moment later he walked away; cloaking himself with darkness' embrace.
