Fuu spent the next few days trying to procure rich foods for Shino, who had developed a taste for oysters and crab meat; first she bought them and then, as the money ran out, she stole them.

"These are so delicious, Fuu-chan!" exclaimed Shino, savoring every bite, her eyes sparkling. "It's as though I've never eaten them before!" Even after a vendor in Shimonoseki almost broke her wrist, Fuu figured it was probably worth it.

While Fuu kept herself occupied with this new mission, Shino kept busy with getting bigger. It seemed like every evening Fuu came home she had expanded another couple of inches.

Then one day when Fuu returned from gathering sea cucumber in the rock pools, she found Shino waiting for her at the top of the steps. "I'm sorry, Fuu-chan," said Shino, smiling tenderly. "I've been feeling the birth pains for the past two days, I don't think I can wait any more. I'm going to have the baby soon."

...

Fuu spent the first hour of the delivery scouring first Tairyō and then Shimonseki for someone to serve as the toriagebaba, an elder with enough experience to be midwife. Fuu had no clue how to deliver a child and it didn't seem like Shino had any ideas either. By hammering on enough doors she found a grumpy old woman who was not eager to be woken up and hustled to the tiny little hut, but could not quite escape Fuu's insistence.

Shino kept silent as she labored, so the hut was quiet except for her tiny, pained grunts and the old woman's exhortations: "Gambatte kudasai" – persevere, persevere.

It seemed to take a long time, and Fuu scuried around for towels and hot water and anything else a new baby might require, with no idea what they were for.

Finally, finally, the midwife, grim-faced, delivered the baby at four o'clock in the morning – it was little and puling, like a plucked chicken. An exhausted Shino, her face sweaty and pale, fell asleep almost the minute the baby was laid in her arms.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" asked Fuu, her voice gravelly and rough from lack of sleep.

"Boy," said the midwife. "Omedetou gozaimasu." Congratulations.

...

Shino managed to nurse the baby the first day, but after that she felt too weak to continue. Fuu sent for a goat from the village and milked it, on the advice of the midwife. The baby would barely eat, and Shino had a fever.

After two days Shino was delirious, the baby was an ugly yellow color, and Fuu was frantic. Was this her punishment for secretly wishing, in her innermost heart, that Jin had left Shino behind? Or perhaps for being wicked and a disloyal wife? What if she had somehow brought the fever that had killed her husband and her mother in law?

Maybe everyone she ever came in contact with would die.

She dragged the carried out to the old woman, since she could not take Shino. The midwife took one look at the baby and laughed. "That ain't yellow fever," she said bluntly.

"Are you sure? I mean, look at his skin – it's yellow!"

"Is he hot?"

"No . . ."

"Then it ain't yellow fever. You gotta keep takin' the baby outside, that's all. Don't know about the mother, but sunshine'll turn him pink again."

"And what about Shino?" asked Fuu desperately.

The old woman pursed up her wrinkled lips and spat. "Bring in a doctor," she advised bleakly.

...

The doctor wouldn't help them.

"You've got no money," he said sharply. "I don't work medicine for free."

"Please," begged Fuu. "Her husband will be back any day now, and they'll pay you anything you need, I promise!"

"I don't take promises, I take cash."

"I'll . . . you can sleep with me," Fuu whispered. "Please, I'm really good at this one thing . . ."

"I've been married more than 40 years," said the little man crisply. "Believe me, the last thing I need is more woman."

"Then I'll work for you," said Fuu shamelessly, not at all embarrassed to have offered sex first and then labor. "I'll . . . I'll mix medicines, or take care of your garden, or do anything you need, anything."

The doctor tsked and shook his head, but he did agree to at least look at Shino. He stood in the hallway and peered in at her where she was sleeping on the futon.

"She hot?" he asked, uninterestedly.

"Yes."

"Her pulse is slow?"

"No, fast."

The doctor was silent.

"Is that bad?" asked Fuu nervously.

"Well, you don't have to do any work for me," said the doctor.

"What do you mean . . . is she going to be alright?"

"Nope," said the doctor. "Milk fever -- nothing we can do." Then he gathered up his leather bag and left.

...

Slowly the baby got healthy and Shino got worse. "Please, Shino," Fuu begged, wiping her hot brow with a damp cloth. "Jin is going to come home any day now. You've just got to hold on until he gets here and then we can pay for a better doctor!"

"Fuu . . ." Shino's hand trembled as she reached out and stroked Fuu's cheek. "Please, take care of them for me."

"Sure I will, just until you get better," Fuu promised.

"The baby," said Shino softly, "And Jin."

"I promise! Anything, I promise, if you'll hold on just a little longer."

She had barely finished speaking when she heard a shout from street outside, and the familiar sound of clanking swords.

Thank God, thought Fuu. It was Mugen and Jin. Now everything would be fine.

.

.

Note: The real 'Milk fever' is not a fatal disease, I just figured that doctors back then wouldn't understand sepsis. Just like I imagined that Fuu would call any plague 'yellow fever' (which as far as I know, never struck Edo period Japan). Sorry, but I've already graduated and these days I don't like to do much research . . .