Chapter Three: What's in a name
My apologies, to those of you that read this fiction....^^ I didn't mean to take so long. I had to recover a bit....but I'm back.
This is relatively short....so Gomen Nasai once again!
すべてのこの長い
タケ果樹園およびナイチンゲールの歌
によって傾く月光。
時々
雲は月の見る人に
残りを。与える。
Quote:
"I remember, I remember,
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
He never came a wink too soon,
Nor brought too long a day,
But now, I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away!
I remember, I remember,
The roses, red and white,
The vi'lets, and the lily-cups,
Those flowers made of light!
The lilacs where the robin built,
And where my brother set
The laburnum on his birthday,-
The tree is living yet!
I remember, I remember,
Where I was used to swing,
And thought the air must rush as fresh
To swallows on the wing;
My spirit flew in feathers then,
That is so heavy now,
And summer pools could hardly cool
The fever on my brow!
I remember, I remember,
The fir trees dark and high;
I used to think their slender tops
Were close against the sky:
It was a childish ignorance,
But now 'tis little joy
To know I'm farther off from heaven
Than when I was a boy."
Sam groaned, and buried her head into her hands. Her skin was much paler then usual.....even in the dim, fading light as the sun lazily sunk
below the horizon. She shivered as she draped her cloak more tightly around herself.
They were still on the search for Danny. They had combed over the area so many times in the campground....
Danny wasn't answering his communicator.....
They'd found it, smashed on the ground.....
It had been two and a half days.
Two and a half days! Her stomach twisted at the thought....
But everything was okay. Danny was alive.
He had to be....
HAD to be....
Tucker walked into the tent, worn expression on his face as he twisted his red cap around to get rid of the leaves. Sam turned around hopefully.
But Tucker merely quietly, slowly, shook his head, gently draping a cloak around Sam's thin shoulders.
Sam bit her lip to control the tears....
No luck.
That was disappointing.
Natsumi sighed as she reached for her wooden bowl, carefully refilling it with hot, steaming broth.
She had hoped to break through the walls of the child's memories....but to no avail.
The lad was pleasant enough, and, although she had begged the black haired, blue eyed boy to STAY DOWN....he still insisted on hobbling
around, helping however he could.
Although he could not answer her many questions-Natsumi hoped by firing them unexpectedly would surprise him enough to break the chain-that,
so far, was failing miserably-he seemed genuinely sorry he could not recall anything before the accident....incident...whatever it was.
Danny was carefully sweeping the old wooden floor, careful not to open the wounds that still needed hourly fresh bandaging. He'd practically
shouted down Natsumi's protests and insisted that she sit for awhile.
Although she was worried for his current state, it was still rather nice to get off her aching feet for awhile as she watched the determined little
fellow.
She smiled as he impaiently tried to move his dustpan with his foot...she knew better then to offer help.
If only she had an idea who the boy was....
She was too anxious about the boy's condition to make the walk towards town. That would take such a long time! And the boy was staggering to
take a few steps! No, she would wait for him to recover for a few days or so.
It pained her to admit it, but she would miss Danny's company terribly. It was nice, not to be alone in a big home all day. It was...nice, to have
someone carefully walk with her to Ikuo's grave, despite bleeding injuries and her insistence that he recover back at the cottage.
But he had very much wanted to meet her son, presenting the grave with a crooked origami crane. He wasn't very good yet, but.....well, it was
very heartfelt.
"Thanks," commented Danny with a smile as he carefully sank into a chair, Natsumi handing him a bowl of soup. "Your food is very good,
Minemono-san."
Although she doubted the boy had much training in Japanese-after all, he only seemed to speak English-he was catching onto her native tounge
fairly quickly. She flashed him a quick smile-he was now devouring his onion soup with gusto-and then she reached for her pen that lay beside
her.
Natsumi loved to write oetry, in particular, haikus.
Ah, summer grasses!
All that remains
Of the warriors dreams.
Natsumi paused before she put her pen back on the table, frowning. This haiku was good...but not perfect.
"That's really pretty."
Natsumi started a bit. Danny was looking at her work with bright interest. She blushed a little.
"Oh...thank you, dear.....I'm not very good at it...."
"May I try?"
She blinked, surprised. "Of course. Now, here are the basic rules for writing a haiku...."
When it was finished, it looked something like this:
Five syllables here.
And now you have seven more.
And now five. Happy?
Natsumi stared at it.
Then, she burst out laughing, louder and longer then she had done in a long, long time. Danny grinned shyly.
"Sorry...I'm not.....very-"
"Nonsense, dear. That....that was so very...." she giggled again. "Original."
Danny smiled again, and, as the two looked at each other, she was struck by the same, nagging sensation that had been annoying her for
awhile...
What did she call the boy? He did not know his name...and it was getting rather tiring calling him "Dear" and "You."
Danny's face saddened-he was obviously thinking the same thing.
As he bent to pick up the pen that had rolled off the table, a pang of inspiration struck her.
"Dear....please....is there anything you'd like me to call you? Anything at all?"
A smile flashed back on Danny's face like quicksilver.
"That would be great, Minemono-san."
"Just "Natsumi," dear."
Danny thought for a moment.
"Okay, Natsumi....um...." he twisted his hands together shyly.
"Can YOU give me a name?"
There was only one she could think of...one that would hurt her, later, she was sure.
But then again....perhaps that truly did not matter, anymore.
Natsumi smiled, somewhat timidly.
"Very well, then....."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Reader, she named him Daijiro.
Reader, would you like to know what "Daijiro" means?
Daijiro means, in Japanese "Great Second Son."
Jack burst out of the tent.
Normally, ghosts were the most formost thoughts that he carried....
But not now.
You never knew how much something meant to you until you lost it....
As a howling wind blew, Jack screwed up his face and bit his lip.
"DANNY!"
Silence. Nothing but the winds emptily, stonily, echoing his reply as black birds, upset by the noise, rose into the air.
"SON! DANNY!"
"WHERE ARE YOU?!"