Chapter 4
My 'Antonia'

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With a heavy heart did Ryouma Saru-Shin move his body toward south tsuchi a few weeks later. Truthfully, whenever he thought of rain, he could remember each and every single time it would seep in the window on his side (and his side alone) in the little closet size bedroom he and his younger brother shared. His bed was on one side, against the window, and Coushander's on the other, beneath the other small window, with about a foot and a half between and a shared end table directly between. They had no closet, but a tiny dresser each at the foot of their beds where he couldn't even pull the drawers open all the way, there wasn't any room. The space was tiny for two growing boys, and with a hard rain that would come in through the storm window at the top made a miserable scene. So naturally, rain was never quite welcome in his heart because of it's power to invade and rot, and fall on his head. Takeshi, their father, never fixed it well enough to where it would never happen again, and Saru's mother couldn't do anything about it…similar to the way Saru couldn't now.

It began to sprinkle steadily just after he crossed the border. He ran from then on, the grand house was not far. He was thus met at the gates by two smart-looking guards who told him to wait out there in the rain while his appointment was confirmed. Security was tight in this place of the supremely, unimaginably rich. In fact, Saru smiled, he bet even his own imagination could not conceive the shortage of limitations their opulence, their power could produce, and here they were, asking for a shinobi to run a letter. Saru was due to receive it, and run it to all of Karada's men: it was a letter of condolence by the same man whose daughter was saved by the man and his forces: Harou Nekai and Saru-Shin. Saru stared at the building, for a long time.

Despite the beauty it held, he would never want to live in such a thing. His own small apartment in Konohamaru had a bedroom large enough he did not know what to do with. As a child, he rolled marbles on his bed before he lost them to the town boys in pursuit of a new pocketknife. As an adult, he could roll boulders in that room should he want to in pursuit of a new pet, like, say, a yellow lion… The entrance, the foyer was all finely carved wood, sloping Eastern-style, the outside walls both painted in white and stained in natural tones—it was all more beautiful than the rarest of black and white pictures for this was in muted color by way of the overcast clouds. Dotted along the wide wrap around porch were hanging baskets of brilliant-colored flowers, violets and begonias, and five foot beautiful feather-leaved purple maples balanced on either side in front on the lawn. The windows must have worn silk on the inside, and fine, immaculate gray shutters on the out, and Saru-Shin highly doubted any of them leaked through cracked caulk and a quarter inch gap. Level upon level, floor upon floor, it was a house of dreams with sloping roofs, a handsome stable, and land and pines as far as eye could see. Ryouma would have never known what to do with such a place.

The guard returned: "He will see you." And he led Saru through the gate and across the lawn, onto a pavement walkway of pressed gravel stone. Saru could see decorations now in the garden of native flora. Some statues were Buddha, with their eyes half closes, lolling in repose, and some were fountains and birdbaths. The moment Saru-Shin walked through the cedar-framed door (stenciled with an intricate damask-like pattern in red), he was instructed to take off his shoes by either another guard or steward-he could not tell which and he immediately obliged: no sense tracking mud or grass onto the man's dear, genuine hardwood floor, shining with such a keen gloss, Saru was momentarily transfixed by the clarity of his own reflection. "Wait here," the steward told him with a distant air.

Saru nodded unconsciously, slowly looking up to find artwork, in golden and brown frames, expensive vases of genuine, real flowers from the garden…and a black-dressed young woman of about nineteen with long black hair, peeking in from the den off the left hand side. It was one of several doors leading off the large anteroom. "Keiko-san," Saru smiled.

She cantered forward with liveliness to put all the decorations to shame, "Saru-Shin!" she exclaimed jubilantly. She acted as if she might hug him, and since she'd watched the steward leave their guest unattended, she did so, and wrapped him up in her arms snuggly.

He grinned, "I didn't think you would remember me…" he said openly after they parted.

"How would I forget you!" she said quietly, but disbelievingly, with a bright and cheerful smile. "How is your friend Harou? Is he well?"

"Oh—yes. Very well."

"I am so sorry," she said suddenly with solemnity in her almond eyes, "I heard what happened."

Saru managed to push down the grief more quickly this time, "Thank you."

"Ah," came an older man's voice from a doorway on the right, coming near, "Ryouma Saru-Shin?"

Saru inclined his head in a short bow as he confirmed, "Yes sir."

"Yes, I do remember you now—I am so very sorry for the loss of your captain," he said. He had walked in with the company of one of his first two sons—Saru presumed it was the eldest by way of the maturity in his face; it was much like his father's, with dark brown hair and blue eyes: exactly like his father. The father produced a letter from his jacket. "Please ensure his men read this. I am donating money now to the cause of the village in eastern Konoha—Senju Hashirama. Have you met him?"

"Yes sir," Saru answered again, taking the letter.

"I suppose you will join with him now, now that Karada has passed on."

Saru actually hesitated before nodding. "I already have, sir." He and Harou both. Kanae too. The only freelance pair attached to Karada remained Tsutomu and Nagira: "We're too old to give a damn," Nagira had said, "Sure, it's worked for now, but you can't beat the freelance work…That's the nitty-gritty 'stuff…"

"Well," the tsuchi man continued, "It is a blessed thing one man is able to lead where one leaves off. Hashirama has done a fine job. I was actually wondering why Karada never joined him."

Again, Saru hesitated, "Karada-sama needed to work freelance."

"Yes," the man gave a short conciliatory nod. "He worked best in that element. He was too crazy to be trusted," Iyadomi smiled, and it brought one to Saru's face as well. "Best of luck to you then." He nodded as if to say goodbye.

"Papa," his daughter broke in, "You can't really send him away in weather like this. We must make him stay, for supper."

Mr Iyadomi glanced at his daughter curiously, "Oh—is it raining hard now?" he wondered casually.

Saru bit back a thought the man would not have known were it not for his water-tight windows—"Um, raining…moderately, sir…"

"Then, by all means. Stay for the meal," he smiled warmly.

Saru-Shin could not readily guess whatever would be on the menu as Keiko took him around for a tour.

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After he thanked the man once more, he was left to go out in the rain-less night alone, but at the last moment, he saw the princess had followed him, taking the liberty to escort him out, on the porch, and onto the narrow pavement, where the rain had temporarily ceased. "Saru-Shin," she said with quickness, for a moment he thought nothing was ever still about her moving, graceful frame: "Would you mind meeting me Thursday-next at a place just north west of here, called the 'Bitter End' tavern?"

"Um…I believe so…what for?" he asked.

"To see you," she blushed.

"Me?"

"Yes you silly. Would you have time? Say, eight o'clock sharp?"

"Well…I think so. I cannot promise you, but I'd love to. I'm bound to Hashirama's contract now, in old Konohamaru."

"Yes," she smiled. "It's strange—the iwa ninja here have been binding together. It's amazing what one act was able to procure."

"It is," he agreed.

"Well, please do come," she said, "I'd kiss you right now if my older brother were not watching out the window."

"Is he?" Saru successfully resisted the urge to look above him.

She nodded. "Father does not care much what I do, but Satoshi does. If he saw me kissing you passionately, he would tell father, and then father would sequester me and try to encourage me to a man of more…worthy, ambitions."

Saru was shocked to hear this from her lips. He was more shocked that she would even kiss him at all—the question of 'do you love me?' was prevalent in his thoughts, and yet he found himself almost afraid to ask. "…Why?" he eventually stammered out.

"Because he values a man of liberal intellect and wealth over a…poor foot-soldier," she smiled. "Mind you, I believe the intellectuals are the ones that have it all wrong…"

"No, no, I mean…why? Why would you…I don't understand. Why would you…kiss me?"

Her smile, wide and warm put all of the land of earth's mountains to shame. He'd never seen such a compassionate smile such as that, not since he could remember his mother sharing the same one with him long ago upon his striped young face. She did not have to say anything. But Saru did; he opened his mouth, struggling with putting his thoughts into words: "Keiko—how could you—Why do you care for me? We met a year ago—"

"Yes and on the way home, you were humming Dixieland," She pointed a straight finger into his chest, "I know you were, don't deny it," she eyed him with a grin. "You have no idea how long it feels like it's been to meet you again. I only wish it could have been by the sails of chance. Honestly," she said, "I wanted to write you, I still have the letter handy upstairs, but I did not know who to write to. And you can't well have expected me to write you love letters via your captain. I don't care how kind-hearted he was."

"…Oh."

"No, it's all right. We have already spoken too long now, so go. And do not forget. Please be there," she said, and a feeling of something Monkey knew not what spread quickly through his veins like wildfire, while staring into her lovely dark brown eyes before he said goodbye; his only guess was love.

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"Has everyone seen it?" Saru asked Harou late in the night. Harou was eating dinner at the tavern, on the western side of Konoha. "What's the use," he muttered indifferently.

"Oh it's a matter of honor."

"Do you really suspect…" Harou trailed, eying the white envelope familiar to him. "Yes," he sighed, "You're right."

Saru pursed his lips—"It just feels like I'm forgetting someone, but I don't know who."

"Kanae?"

"Got him."

"Nagira? Tsutomu? Fuyuto, Koichi, Ikemoto, Tenzou, Odayo—Hachiuma?"

"…Hachiuma?"

Harou shrugged.

"No," Saru sighed frustratingly. "It's almost like I'm thinking…of a woman…but…Of course! His widow!" he finally realized.

"Wh…" Harou turned, and Monkey was already running out the door. For a moment, Harou wanted to follow him. Instead he laughed to himself, and thought of her while he rolled the plain water around in his glass.

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East of Tanzaku, there was the little home, infinitely modest by standards of wealth by Iyadomi, but truthfully larger than Saru's old home near Midori. Surrounded by a lush garden of butterfly bushes, hydrangeas, and the large, trimmed spirea bushes boasting small, sweet smelling white flowers near dark green leaves, Saru thought it could not look more out of place on the green lawn comprised of tall grass and wildflowers. The sight reminded him of a house that would appear in that of a fairy tale with a thatched roof and smoking chimney, qualities the house actually possessed with a clothes-line stretching out to the dark green forest which encompassed it. Indeed Monkey felt as if he'd just stumbled upon a dream. A secret garden. He approached distantly, taking in the small wonders, the smells, bees, and flowers; the path was large, made of flat pieces of grey stone, and moss clung all around and up the wood beams along the large, roofed front porch. A small stone garden was hidden near the front, winding like a river with old chunks of rock with bits of quartz. The stones made ripples in the sandy stream.

He knocked gently on the screen door after a moment, able to see a small kitchen to the right, and a family room to the left with a handsome red rug, a buckskin color mantle of birch wood in a heavy honey glaze; Saru-Shin grinned largely, and fought down a laugh as he could see the equally quaint and charming picture above it and the ivory candlesticks unlit, the deep, small loveseat sofa, and side table with another ivory lamp...the rustic charm almost brought tears to his striped eyes as he waited. They were not sad tears, but ones of a happy disbelief. He had never seen this place before. Saru now could not imagine for the life of him Karada actually living this way. The word and feeling of love again entered into Monkey's mind for an answer, and still Saru could not believe. Like Harou, he too found it hard to believe the man had stayed here long enough to produce three sons. How did he get married in the first place…? Was it by chance…? Was it youth…? Was it…

Saru bit his tongue harshly, trying to keep his imagination behind bars lest a humorous blow of laughter met the woman that came with soft footfalls over the creaking wood—if Karada were a carpenter, she was the homemaker: she came into view finally, at least five-seven, with a straight walk, both her arms in motion as if she were in the middle of ten things, all of them annoying. Her face was oval-shaped, and she was blonde-haired with round eyes at first Saru wanted to name as the deepest shade of amethyst violet he'd ever seen. Again, Monkey pinched himself discretely not to burst out in a never-ending laughter. She was wearing a brown top with three quarter sleeves above a dark blue skirt that fell to her knees.

The funeral had been one public, and one private, and she and the young boys had solely attended the later with the rest of the clan, or at least those that showed, neither Harou nor Saru knew how many Senju came to pay either laughter or respects. Her voice was like a rabbit's, if an usagi could speak, "Yes?" she said shortly.

Swallowing mountains of confused good cheer, Saru reached into the pocket of his best vest and offered her the letter without a word. She opened the door, stepped out, and took it. She opened it on the spot, and read it, all the way to the back page. Saru waited, and she read it through with a steady and unwavering expression. Then, after she was done, she looked up and said, "Thank you."

Saru nodded his head. "Yes ma'am."

"I take it…you were one of my husband's disciples, were you?"

Saru was actively battling the giggles still, and he was actively losing: "Yes ma'am."

With a sudden hop in her voice and a strict air about her eyes, she asked pointed, "Whatever is so amusing to you?"

Having been caught, Saru let it out.

"All this!" he said after his laughter eventually calmed and her patience proved infinite. "You—This house. All of it."

To his surprise, she returned a knowledgeable smile. "You did not think Karada…capable of being anything other than a soldier."

"No…"

She smiled. "He wasn't. He was a soldier, through and through. A solider of wits, and ninjutsu alike," she said matter-of-factly. "He devoted his life out there, and came home only when it suited him. May you, young man, never do such a thing as long as you live and breathe," Saru's smile finally vanished with the knife of her honest-spoken words. "I do not regret our time together," she continued almost wistfully. "But you men never learn how to make commitments to those you love. It's always the job. Never the woman. Never the intended," She glanced over the top of her fairy-tale garden with sagacity entering her mind, "And was all this, as you say, intended… How he was able to touch all of your lives, I do not know," she said reflectively, "But he was good at it. Darn good at it. He was sensei material with wise eyes like his. The kind that would leave you out in the forest for something to gain. He was something else, that Senju was," she declared, "Something else entirely," she smiled suddenly—"And even I was just another one touched by him it seems."

A pause wafted between the two, bringing the tender fragrance of roses, magnolia, clematis, lavender, and still more. A bird landed near the stone garden to peck something it found worthy of pursuit, and another to a tall birdbath hidden by a bush. "Do you miss him?" she asked suddenly.

"Yes ma'am—he was...the best man I ever knew."

One corner of her mouth smiled, while the other remained even. "Yes. So do I," she concurred. And just then, the two could hear the sound of a young man coming forward, peeking through the kitchen. It was her small seven year old, "The youngest," she said.

Saru smiled at him warmly.

"Thank you, for bringing this," she told the shinobi, and handed it back to him.

"Do you…not want to keep it?"

"No," she shook her head, smiling. "Goodbye now, and safe journey."

"Oh—yes—thank you," Saru nodded his head, and she went inside.

"Who was that man…?" Saru could hear in a small voice as he left the porch slowly. "Somebody daddy knew…?"

Saru left the quaint house like in a dream still, with a queer knowledge that once he left, he may never see it again in the same way—the son would grow up, the plants would wave and change, the house would grow older, and the Intended, too, would age slowly.

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The 'Bitter End' sounded like a place of hard luck and hard drink. The two usually blended together frequently. He was sure they were the same age, nineteen as he remembered, so he wondered what he got himself into...

After asking a few locals in which direction it was, he came to a town, and hidden beyond, due north west almost a quarter mile, he came around toward the side of one large wooden building standing alone just beyond the lonely road out of the equally lonely town. Saru-Shin could hear the sweet sound of a rosewood violin coming from a wide veranda out in back. It was about seven-thirty in the evening and Saru came closer, hidden by part of the open arbor, and he walked forward slowly, to the noise which he could only define as the most beautiful racket he had ever heard in his life. It was better, far better than the static radio with the noise and cultural sounds from Nobu or Tanzaku this time of night or later, and it was the simple kind of beauty to make his father want to shut up, sit tight, and listen with an ear next to the old speaker. For a voice over that music, that playing, would be murder. And true, another means of prettying the soft but upbeat piece was the young girl herself, a young woman, playing it. Her beauty added to it, and fluidly her upper arms moved with the bow skipping from one string to the next, her fingers having already arrived at the next notes: all of which she stood there and caught like rain falling from the sky. Saru could see her clearly. The whole of her playing was so honest and simple, he felt his eyes display his emotion.

She finished, and Saru became aware of the other dancers on the floor, the people, and band who were with her. If Monkey sat there and counted, he doubted he would reach more than twenty or so. Behind the raven-haired and raven's dress of the young woman sat a guitar player, middle-aged, and on the right was also a forty or fifty-something somnambulant-looking man with a mandolin, plucking lazily a few pairs of strings at a time slowly with hooded eyes. The only other movement about him was his head which Saru noticed the second time: it seemed to be bobbing, minutely, to her beat. Behind them stood an upright bass, unaccompanied. It seemed they were missing someone. They played on a short wooden platform above the wooden deck beneath a grand arbor of open trellises over it, and down the sides, thick with white flowering vines that curled like green icicles across the expanse. Leaning forward against the south end of the arbor, Saru noticed a small alcove with a closed nook off the side of the building where and a man and his wife, Monkey presumed, were setting up records as if to get them ready to play. Both looked to be somewhere in their forties—his lady was in a white yukata. In seats, adjacent to the stage on the north side, sat a young woman in back Saru immediately recognized, and glancing his way by happenstance, immediately, she recognized him: Hagiwara Akeno sat in the very back row by herself with a business man, or he looked to be one, wearing a clean white shirt, and dark navy pants. His jacket of the same color was draped over the young woman's shoulders. Nearly matching her orange-auburn hair, the young lady was wearing an orange shawl over a dark mahogany color dress, red and brown. She looked beautiful, pink cheeks and lips, with tiny pink flowers and vines scrolled across her dress. She also retained her nervousness and shyness—Akeno was astonished to see him there.

Toward the front were about ten others, each and every one dressed simply but smartly. The women wore either skirts, dresses, or yukata, and the men in assorted green, brown, and blue collars. Then, out on the floor danced one pair: an old man and his wife, each looking to be about seventy or thereabouts, dancing slowly, but in time. He was wearing a good brown shirt, and his lady wore a printed top and pleated skirt, small red flowers dotting the white fabric, and an open red vest was over her shoulders. Her grey hair was in a tight bun.

A smile would not vanish from Saru's face no more than water from the north sea. He remembered the young woman vividly, pointing her finger in his chest, saying she knew what 'Dixieland' sounded like. In fact, judging by this backyard club, she knew far more than 'I'll not be back this way again…'; she knew every single one earlier than that. He could tell this by her passion, and her spirit, and the fact there were no music stands in front of either person from the trio. And those around her, in good spirits too, were tapping their feet and nodded their heads along. Saru felt rich with an odd sense of victory, never dreaming to find a young woman like her. He also felt an inch of jealously, if she were anybody's girl.

The piece ended with her bow trailing off the edge of the string in peace. All three received instant adoration in the form of clapping, even from the man and his wife, still bending over with their player like something had gone wrong with it yet again. And the older couple—the oldest couple clapping while staring wistfully with their grey eyes over the elongated yellow lanterns, vines, and Keiko, who after a brief respite turned behind her and exchanged words with the salt and pepper-haired guitarist for their next piece. She turned then after a moment, picked up her bow and fiddle. The tears resurfaced, glossing Monkey's eyes. It was an instrumental piece of 'If I Needed You'.

The guitarist supported the rest, both vocal and instrumental, while the mandolin man continued his somnambulant picking, a little slower this time. Saru watched the man's eyes close; he was listening to the others. Saru then continued to stare at their young lead: her flowing sleeveless black dress flared from her waist in tight pleats, with a stretch or two of black satin ribbon around the bottom and at her waist. The fabric moved swiftly, as she, with a sheer black dress shirt above, with short sleeves.

Together they performed three songs more, including the one the man sang to, and still leaning against the pine post, Monkey stayed hidden from her, smiling all the way through. Come eight o'clock, all three were tucking away their instruments, and Keiko, stepping off the platform while the others from the seats were coming on to the floor, she caught the oldest couple, heading back for the chairs. Akeno, and the man, had not moved yet, though Saru saw them exchanging words. It was obvious that Keiko, the princess, was looking around hurriedly for the figure of the short, odd white-haired fellow, and Monkey stepped forth like he had come in late from the detour of the rather large smashed pumpkin on the road she—or he had left behind: "Saru-Shin!" she exclaimed in a voice of both surprise and joy, a voice which she had consciously planned not to be to loud: she cantered over to him promptly, "Oh Saru you made it!" she said again.

He smiled warmly, "I heard you play."

Suddenly, her swift arched brows rose a quarter, "Oh?"

"You are beautiful, Miss Keiko."

Shocked, she smiled dumbly until the start of the music finally caught her attention. The ancient player began playing after Saru had heard, "Ladies and gents—we've fixed it, again! Enjoy this fine evening…"

Upon the start, she reached for his hand and pulled him behind, pulling him toward the dance floor—"Wait! What are you—Keiko…!"

A grin blossomed on her face wide and glowing, as the other flowers around the yellow lit place were closing up from the twilight above, "What are you doing?" he asked again, watching the others dancing to an old upbeat tune he knew.

"You came to dance, didn't you?" She took hold of both his hands firmly, lest he jumped away shyly. Within a moment she twirled to the beat and quickly he uttered toward her in a low voice, "But I don't dance."

She gasped, melodramatically, and she twirled again, leading him back and forth and side to side: she was constantly in motion. "Saru-Shin, I am surprised at you!" She continued to smile, dancing her own way, then leading him to the right and then to the left. "What's the good of singing a song if you can't dance to it?"

"Well…" he began, and trailed, focusing more on where she was leading him. "Well it's just not something I've done…Private or public," he murmured to himself.

"Then you were not as rogue a man as I thought," she said, still smiling with a flush of pinkness in her cheeks, "I will have to loosen you up," she said confidentially, "There is not much to it. We meet every Thursday," she explained. "Where real music is concerned. The band and I give old-time concerts on Tuesday evenings. But tonight—tonight is the night I dance."

And she was a spirited, gifted, graceful dancer, as well as fiddle player. Her rhythm was young, innocent, and flawless—with passion and energy abounding. "We go two hours," she added.

"—Two hours!" Saru exclaimed privately. She grinned and her dress twirled again like a black pansy, spinning, "—Wh—Surely you don't dance the entire two hours…!"

She grinned and said, "There is a fifteen minute intermission halfway, and I sing on two songs—perhaps you would join me? Oh—And I play one waltz…about twelve, or thirteen songs from now.

"…Lord!" he murmured in disbelief.

The second song was a group dance, and there were now only about four pairs on the floor, including the ninja and the princess. The song was another Saru knew, sung by an old singer. Saru got lost on his feet more than once, having never danced in a group before, but no one took it seriously. The following song was finally a slow one—the oldest couple rejoined the few pairs, and Saru was learning her slow rhythm was more important than concentrating on her actual steps. The only person he would have ever danced with in his short life of nineteen years was his mother, as she sang some old song after washing dishes or coming over the little wooden bridge from the Mihure's, swinging him around herself with a wonderful smile and long black hair…Akeno was now on the floor with the handsome, tall man. "How is Akeno?" Saru-Shin asked the princess quietly, while the candles continue to burn all hidden and yellow in paper lanterns.

Keiko grinned, "She is very well," she returned quietly; they were on opposite ends, with the oldest couple and two other in-between. "Her parents are actively encouraging her to…ah…" Keiko whispered fondly, "…Attract prospective suitors."

Saru glanced again quickly. Akeno looked modestly shy as ever. He could see the continual spec of fear in her eyes from the night Saru first met her and Keiko.

"Ever since…north country, she has sequestered herself away," Keiko confirmed confidentially, "and vows she will have no man. At least she vows it to me. But…anyone with eyeballs can see that Sanada is the perfect match for her. He is thirty-two years old, fifteen years her senior, but he is a genuine…good man. He is a sailor, a captain, from the north—actually born in Kusa—the north, I believe."

"Oh," said Saru. Keiko bit her tongue, keeping in, for now, so much else on the matter. "Stars" went quickly, leading right into "Let Me Call You Sweetheart", where, alongside the oldest couple, both Keiko and the old woman mouthed the lyrics playfully. The only thought running through Monkey's busy, chaotic mind was that this young woman was too perfect, the kind that made him want her with a rush in his veins he'd never felt before. No sooner could he hope to sweep her off her feet would he lose her to some dashing man from the coast far more handsome than he. During the old-fashioned waltz, he asked her suddenly, very quiet, "Do you really care about me?"

She nearly laughed aloud and mouthed the words, "Let me call you sweetheart, darling, I love you," She grinned then quietly as women sometimes do, caught in a silence of affirmations unsaid. They were dancing near the platform, keeping in that area while the old woman and the man were enjoying the slower-paced music to the couple's right. Keiko could see the old woman glance at her knowingly, almost appreciatively the raven-haired princess had finally found someone to dance with. "No one has seen me here, dancing with a young man like you," Keiko whispered, "I have always danced alone. Though, I have danced with Sanada-san—Akeno's suitor."

"I bet he dances better than me."

"Well. He is so much used to a boat rocking beneath his feet, he says it's quite difficult for him to keep in time…"

Saru smiled, "Oh."

The next song was a group dance—Keiko gave a firm look to seventeen year old Akeno who was sitting on the edge of the seats with Sanada, and he stood up. Akeno returned a coy glance at her friend and followed him willingly. After the dance, two minutes later, a duet began on a record and Keiko rejoined Saru-Shin, and Akeno to Sanada; the old woman, to her old gentleman.

Keiko continued to dance on and on—Saru grew weary, watching her dance spiritedly to 'Shady Grove' and then he rejoined her when the inimitable sound of the original wafted through the speaker phone. "If I needed you," she mouthed, "Would you come to me…?"

She danced sublime. As the next song explained it, 'like a diamond shines' she stepped and never lost the beat once upon her small and swift feet. Then she would return to the simple back and forth motions with him while she and the old woman sang aloud, to his surprise, "Roses are red—Violets are blue, primroses pale, on the velvet green hue, warm summer days, by cool waterfalls, like music we hear; those things we'll always hold dear—like an old fashioned waltz…" Then Keiko surprised him again, and sang aloud by herself as she danced with him, "Living on the road, my friends, it's going to keep you free and clean…"

Then, another group dance.

Then, her heart skipped a fanciful beat during the swift silence afterward, "This is my favorite song," she said with a quick grin, "They let me sing it."

"Oh…?"

"Yes, and you will sing the duet with me—I'll get you started…"

She pulled him back onto the dance floor just as he stuttered a "Wait, wait, Keiko, I don't…" And then he heard the familiar music play, and she sang beautifully, "He said 'oh my love, O my Antonia…You with the dark eyes and palest of skin…'" And during the short respite between stanzas, she was looking at her partner most expectantly. He swallowed his own shyness and just as he opened his mouth, she opened hers to voice his words in case he had backed down. He began unsteady, but finished well.

Their voices blended easy for the chorus.

"…You are the one I will always remember: all of the days of my life…"

Next song, he was able to stand near Akeno idly in solitude—Keiko leapt up on the stage like a grasshopper and fiddled an old waltz all by herself—it was the oldest couple's waltz: slow, soft, and terribly romantic-sounding. Akeno explained with a small shy smile, "It is their favorite." Dancing front and center, they looked like the two most contented, happy souls in all the world.

Next song, Saru glanced at the alcove, for he could not believe what he was hearing. He was dumbed with disbelief until a few moments later, when dancing with the princess, "…This is my favorite song," he told her. "The Catfish Song…"

Saru met with Akeno and Sanada during the intermission, and again after the long, totally exhausting two hours of grinning ear to ear intermittently and moving across the deck in circles like restless fools; the people were heading home. It was past ten-thirty. Keiko secured her violin, and she exchanged words with the manager in the alcove. From afar, Saru noticed him glance his way—the wife, too, and smile. Briskly, she left them after a moment, picked up her charcoal case, and extended a hand for Saru-Shin once more. "Will you walk with me?"

"Oh—I still have legs?" he grinned. Saru sat up from the back row. Nearly everyone was gone. Even Akeno walked away with Sanada, who escorted her home. Keiko laughed.

"Let me carry that, will you?"

"I wore you out," she smiled. "I will keep it. You're too kind, Saru-Shin," she said, and she led him out on a path north-east. "Now I can finally say this. Ever since I met you, I wanted to know you. Ever since I heard 'Dixieland', I knew. And now, I'm fairly sure that I love you Ryouma Saru-Shin."

He eyed her suddenly in bewilderment—"Really?"

She smiled warmly, "Really."

"Oh, well…I suppose now I can say this, too…I love you back, Iyadomi, Keiko. You're amazing. I have never, ever, in my life, danced like that. Or sang like that in front of so many," he added reflectively. "The beauty of it all will haunt me now, in my dreams. There will never be anything else like it. Thank you."

"The night isn't over yet," she said seriously, still smiling thoughtfully.

"Well—" he was caught unaware, fishing out the answer in her meaning. "I'm not sure…" he said, eying her eying him. "We need to be married, first. Would you—" Saru-Shin realized then, like a splash of cold water on his face and God above in His joyful Heaven that he was proposing to a woman below—"Would you marry me, Miss Keiko?" he said with as much question in his own voice.

She grinned, and she nodded.

"Really?"

"Yes!"

He stood there in shock for a moment until he felt an unrivaled feeling of glee in his heart. With joy he turned as she pressed him onward, interlocking arms. Saru was not even mindful of the stars now, with such a woman, such a future, dream, and love beside him.

"…I suppose," he said after his thoughts, like a great stack of papers flying out on a windy day out a window had finally all fallen and settled—"You're father, would disapprove."

"If you save enough money, and if you approach him at a good time, he might accept you."

"Yes—that's right," he thought suddenly, thinking with sudden sagacity on the subject. "A ring, a house…" he trailed dispiritedly. None of which objects, at present, he could afford.

They walked on through another heavy silence, until he said what was on his mind. "We're—going to have to wait," he told her. "Maybe, a while. Would you—would you wait?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I can wait. But you must try and come by on Thursdays—everyone was so curious about you," she made herself laugh. "I dearly love that place with all my heart. The people are few. The music is old. We know each other, and I could dance all night if I wanted. I have," she claimed. "Akeno wasn't very happy though…" she murmured with a smile.

"Yes," he agreed. "It's wonderful. Where were you taking me, anyway?"

"Well, I was going to take you near the river, where you and Karada held out after you saved me. I was going to make love to you there, but…" The two had stopped—"I suppose that's not going to happen now. You must probably leave in the morning. And we will be two parted souls until the reunions, and our wedding day," she finished quietly. "I can wait 'till then," she nodded. "I will wait. I'm better off kissing you goodbye here, and heading off to Akeno's place. I suppose we'll have to leave it at that… Her home is just due west along the river there. I always stay there Thursday nights, and sometimes on Tuesdays, but really only when her parents are away. She can't stand being alone…Neither can I," the princess added softly.

After a while, he nodded. "I have to head back east in the morning. Rice country."

"…May I still show you the river? It's not far."

Despite his own tiredness, he nodded with a warm smile. "I'd like that."

With the stars twinkling above, the deep blue river sparkled with moving specs of white glitter underneath the half moon above south tsuchi. He commented on it's beauty, and hers, the superior of all. It was then, in the still moment of the night she leaned in slowly, her hands holding his, with the violin sitting lonely on the ground. She kissed him on the lips, and tentatively, their embrace grew tighter as she leaned her body against his.

When it came to part, she kissed him a final time, passionately, before she and the flying fiddle both followed the river west without a sound. Saru, after seeing her out of sight, moved in the opposite direction slowly, heading north-east, for the border. Much was on his mind… …"As she started to go, then I started to know how it feels, when the universe reels…" Saru-Shin hummed with a wide smile.

.

It was their last dance together, nearly a year later, and somewhere toward the end of 'Paddy On the Beat', only seven dances in, Sanada stopped suddenly from the group dance, and Akeno paused—he took out a small black box and knelt down on one knee before the eighteen year old girl. "Akeno, will you marry me?" he asked.

The woman in question put a hand to her mouth and stood there, clearly surprised, and visibly moved. Everyone else had stopped to see this miraculous scene while the pleasant music rolled on. "Will you?"

"Yes," she nodded her head. Her hand trailed down, revealing a hearty, and joy filled smile with tears in her eyes, glittering over her distant fears with the security of happiness. "Yes." The next dance was theirs.

Raven-haired Keiko stood with Saru-Shin at the very back of the stage, and while no one was watching, not even him, she kissed him warmly on the side of his cheek. "Pretty soon, hopefully, that will be you and me down there," she said quietly.

"Yeah—" he hesitated. "I think I've got the ring settled, but I still need more time for…"

She nodded her head lightly. "Yes," she said with a breath like she knew what she was waiting for. Then, suddenly, she brightened, "Hey, we could always buy a boat with that!"

"A boat? Why? Oh…" She smiled deviously. He laughed a little when he understood her meaning, "I will let you bring your pony."

She grinned, "Thank you. I wouldn't leave without him. And we could all go then, together, out on the north sea. Together," she repeated wistfully.

For a second or two, the idea genuinely appealed to him. Keiko laughed softly again and held onto his arm, watching the pair, her best friend and the other fine-looking man in the world dance alone out on the floor. "They are a handsome couple," said Keiko fondly with a large smile. "I am so happy for her."

Beside her, Saru nodded his head and agreed. "They are indeed," A moment passed before he asked, "Will they go out to sea, do you think?"

"In time. I think…Well, she told me," Keiko admitted with a blush on her own face, "She told me he wouldn't ask unless she would tell him it was all right to do so. I guess she told him it was all right to," Keiko smiled. "He is mature enough to make her so happy. And he…Sanada has been looking for a while, now, I think," she observed in her own way, "And such a sweeter, more innocent girl he will never find next to her. Akeno is perfect for him."

"Hm," Saru remarked later with a smile, "Sounds familiar."

"…'Sail Away Ladies'!" called the man with the records once the song ended.

"You are going to continue a sea theme to tease her," Keiko told him. Akeno was blushing. Even Sanada was surprised in an amused way. But the sudden sound of the spirited aire swept them all to dance together.

.

"Oh youth," he remarked disparagingly, "We are all truculent fools…"

"Truculent? Why do you say that?"

"We can't seem to leave anybody alone…"

"My goodness you're getting cranky," said a different voice—twenty-three year old Harou Nekai looked over the tall platform behind him. "…Monkey."

"Taking break…" were the next words to exit his mouth.

"Have you been doing watch duty!" Saru-Shin exclaimed.

"The currier lines to the north of Taki are jammed again by nature's fury. A man can't navigate there this time of year easily. I came home and I was reassigned here—they were short on hand. It's really boring. Where have you been?"

"Tsuchi."

"…Again?"

"Even for love, you would do it too," Saru's dark eyes grinned, sparking with amusement.

"Oh shut up," Harou said unforgivingly, "I will never marry," he said matter-of-factly.

"Maybe," said Saru with a funny grin, which caused Harou to stand there and roll his eyes: "Meet me tonight, on the mountain—" he cocked his head and smiled, "—there's much we need to catch up on."

Saru nodded.

Later, they reconvened like two wafting ghosts in the night. Harou was already waiting for the white haired young man. "It's good you're back," Harou admitted, "I was hoping to run into you soon."

"Oh run into me Harou? How is your eyesight then…all right…?"

Harou shook his head, smiling. "Blast you and your happiness…" he muttered.

Saru laughed jovially.

"So what. Are you ready to wed soon?"

"You will get an invitation," Saru promised. "You'll probably get one before my own family does. And you…I want you to be my witness."

"Your witness," Harou repeated. "You torture me, don't you."

Saru-Shin grinned.

"What if I'm flung into the sands of suna before I get my invitation?"

"I will personally deliver it to you," said Saru.

"…Thanks," his friend said quietly after a while. "I'll consider it an honor. I guess…" he added slowly, "I guess you two really are in love."

Saru-Shin fought down another grin, and so he diverted it away best he could, but it was like stopping the sun from rising. "Because you won't marry, you find it hard to believe in love elsewhere…is that it? Did I get that right?"

"Yes," Then Harou suddenly looked bewildered: "Monkey," he opened his mouth, baffled, "You've gotten awfully perceptive…I don't like it. I don't like having my motives strewn about the floor like this."

"Yes. I know you hide stuff up your sleeve," Saru chuckled. "But really—I learned from the best."

"Hm," said his friend, until Harou looked at him seriously, "Do you really mean that?"

"Mean what?"

"Have I really gotten so aloof—have I been arrogant toward you?"

Saru hid the biggest smile yet. "You're short with everybody. I'll just put it that way."

"Well I know that. But you're the only one I'm not short with."

"Yes, you are very tall compared to me."

"Oh…" Harou was unnerved by Saru's ability to laugh at any given moment. He was breaking up fits of laughter now. "Karada was right, about you," Harou said when the laughter subsided and a smile on both their faces remained, "He was right about you, about so many other things. And he told me…He said to me once I needed to look after you…but really…I think you have been the one keeping me sane. We've gone through quite a bit, this past year," Harou paused. "Thank you."

"The honor was Karada's, I'm sure."

"And so it can remain. Here's to you," Harou offered without drink nor pipe, but instead with an empty, lonely heart. "And best wishes for a lifetime of happiness," added Harou, with a warm smile.

"Thanks. I'm actually a little nervous…"

"Oh. well. I'm sorry I can't offer you any advice—or consol."

"Yes, yes—you who shall 'never marry'," finished Saru-Shin. "Never fall in love…It's not so bad," he smiled quickly, "But remain aloof," he resumed, "So you can look after our kids every time we're on holiday."

"Oh?" Harou uttered as if he were suddenly reduced to a steward or coxswain, "I must do that? Ha. Glad to," he agreed with a short chuckle.

Saru grinned to himself as he foresaw Harou not knowing what he would have gotten himself into. "That reminds me—after all this time, I finally figured out what to put inside the journal Karada gave to me."

"Oh?"

Saru grinned. "Yep."

.

Harou went off again soon, escaping sensei work, delivering messages as a currier, the kind of messages, the kind of secrets not trusted to messenger bids and the hawks, but to plain clothes people who could get by without much notice, and within weeks, Harou learned something suddenly that turned him around immediately. But he did not turn for the old Konohamaru, the hokage office, nor that general direction—He turned to fetch Saru-Shin, wherever he was. Keiko was not well.

Harou remembered telling him, and turning around, to see him run into the forest—in a blurry white flash, he was gone.

.

Yet again, Saru-Shin stood outside the tall wrought iron gates of that immaculate, locked up, impenetrable fortress of strength in south tsuchi—he was breathless, not from the beauty nor richness, but anxiety, that kind of dismay that grappled his heart every waking second, tying his stomach in knots he believed would never come undone. What had gone wrong? Had she been sick for sometime without him even knowing? Or did she never tell him if that was the case…? "Please," he begged again, "I must speak with the family." He explained his case futilely to the guards who were adamant no one was to enter spontaneously. But what Saru lacked in tact, he gained by recognition. Less than two minutes later, her brother, the eldest of the two came forth from the house, a black umbrella cord wrapped around his wrist. Though the clouds were dark grey and thick, it was not yet raining. Like Saru, the sky seemed to be holding it's breath one way or the other.

The doors were opened upon the brother's admission. Monkey's heart thudded frantically like a waterfall while the young man said merely, "I will take you to her," in the same quiet tone of solemnity.

Monkey nodded his head and followed quickly, "Thank you."

Just before they reached the front door, the eldest stopped. "I'm aware…you two were close," he said simply. "And I regret…what has happened."

He then led Saru-Shin inside where he took off his shoes and followed the man nearly like a dog at his heels. This dog wasn't paying much attention to the flowers and paintings, nor the glass sheen of the hardwood staircase Saru had never trod before, nor the finely carved railing—up at the top of the stairs, his heart suddenly dropped painfully as he saw all these closed white doors above beige carpeting. He felt like he would fall back to the landing, but a sway turned him forward, directed to the large white door on the west end. "Father," he had just exited from it. The brother walked forward silently, "He must see her."

After a slight pause, Mr Iyadomi nodded, and moved aside, somewhat. Saru reached for the handle, his heart still lost somewhere in the pit of his stomach or at the front door—he turned it and entered inside…closing it behind him gently. If Saru's apartment had been about fifty times the size of his closet bedroom, he did not care to know how much her room exceeded that; but there she lie, near the south bay window and he raced to her side, and held her hand.

Her body was covered by a thin white sheet in a thin white night gown, and her face was as pale as his own—cloud white, and it was glistening, from both sweat and exhaustion above a clean white pillow, dotted with small blue flowers. Much of her soft raven's hair was matted—a cool compress underneath supported her neck. "Keiko," Saru said, "Keiko," Gently, he squeezed her hand, and waited impatiently.

She began to open her eyes, and Saru-Shin shuddered as he saw the eyes of a sick woman—it brought back the memories of his own mother. "Keiko," he spoke firmly, "I'm right here," And he smiled supportively, even though he was shaking on the inside, as the pink rose color leapt to his cheeks, instead of her own. "…If you needed me—I'd come to you. Remember?"

A faint smile changed her face, making him weep dearly on the inside. She swallowed, and said slowly, "Saru-Shin, in the top drawer, of my dresser, in a black sock on the left, there is a note. Get it. Now," she said when he did not move.

Trembling, he went to the large white piece, engraved with a few simple flowers between the pulls, and he opened it silently, and found it. With care he closed the drawer quietly and held the note in one hand while his other wrapped again around hers, "Do not read it now," she continued slowly. "Put it in your pocket—Yes—Thank you Saru-Shin."

"Keiko…"

"I—" she began again with difficulty, "—will be gone, soon. No—do not weep. I—have wept enough. Saru. Would you…" she lost her voice for a moment. "Would you have run away with me, if I had asked you?"

"…If I could have given you the moon, anything—Yes. I would."

She smiled sadly, looking away, up toward the ceiling and her walls; "Then it is a heavy loss—indeed. I regret I did not ask you sooner, I regret we never…"

"No," he stroked her hair lovingly, "No regrets. We did the right thing. We can still be wed—We can. You'll get better you see—"

"—No," she said simply, with a small smile. "Now go—please."

"Keiko," he objected in an emotional tone.

"Shh," she said, smiling, with a faint sparkle in her eyes. It was the same look she had when she first kissed him—when he was first kissed. Regardless of her skin and needless sweat, it was the same woman on that platform, in the sweeping black dress with old music swept into her heart, and her fiddle… Saru leaned in closer, holding her hair. He kissed her forehead for a gentle, fragile moment, bringing back memories of grand and hopeful dreams. The raging wildfire in his veins, shaking all across the land caused his hand to tremble—it was love, he understood. A dying one he would never let go of.

"Please. Remember me…near the river," she said, with a smile. "Remember me—a dreamer."

Saru heard the door open—it was a nurse maid, or the maid, he could not tell. When he looked back Keiko had closed her eyes, and she moved her head to rest. And under a power he did not believe his own since for once in his life all the strength he held was gone, Saru-Shin stood, and walked away, looking behind him with a blurry gaze as he left. The woman's father entered in again, after the shinobi, leaving Saru out in the hall with her oldest brother.

"…Mother died, the same way—from fever," he mentioned quietly. "I fear…I fear she will not last the night."

They were both silent for a moment until Ryouma found something to say, "With my mother, it was cancer. She died when I was thirteen." The men had been helpless, just as they were now.

"Keiko was nine—I was sixteen. Lord," he said. "Her innocence saved me. It really did."

Saru nodded sympathetically, remembering his younger, silver-haired brother—Coushander had been eight. "Children, are dreamers," Monkey whispered, counting himself still one of them.

Satoshi nodded.

.

'Do not weep for me,
Behold you are with me, as sure as the stars,
That rise in the evening, that shine down upon me—
Behold I am with you, wherever you are.'

Monkey read those words later that night, near the river, soon after she died. And now that he read those words, he took the little silver ring out of the same pocket and started at it for a while, watching the small stone sparkle from every angle in the full moonlight above. It shined every color to his eyes, reminding him of the way she could dance. "Dancing like a diamond shines…" he lilted. He let his hand fall and he sighed, feeling the despair engulf him like a heavy blue fog. After a moment, he tossed the ring into the river. "It's a pretty rock," he said to himself. "It won't rust. It's a rock. It will be there when we return."

He lied down, on the ground, staring up at the night curtain forlornly. He wondered where the new stars were as if he should be able to tell which one was her. But soon, Saru-Shin could hear the small snapping and rustling of animals in the night; he looked up and saw a large, fat possum in one of the trees, watching him, Saru smiled. By the time he turned back to look, it had hid itself somewhere behind the trunk. Then Saru heard the distinct footfalls of a taller creature—two. Man and wife. He sat up and turned about to look. Akeno pressed onward briskly for Keiko's home along a narrow path while Sanada stopped near in the bright moonlight.

Saru-Shin shook his head, unaware if even they knew. "She—didn't make it."

"I'm so sorry," he said solemnly, his hands in his pockets.

Saru could hear a loud cicadae screeching nearby in the long respite of silence.

"…Will you still come by, on Thursdays?" asked Sanada respectfully.

"I can try," Saru said honestly. "Won't you and miss Akeno go out to sea soon…?"

Sanada smiled shortly. "Yes," he admitted. "But that won't be for another month yet."

Saru nodded. He laughed shortly. "She…Keiko, was trying to teach me her fiddle. Here. Beside the river," he smiled. "I wasn't very good."

"Did you see her, before she…?"

Saru nodded. "Yes. I did. Next time—Next life," he said. "We'll get married. Next time."

.