It is by its breath
That autumn's leaves of trees and grass
Are wasted and driven.
So they call this mountain wind
The wild one, the destroyer.
Living on a boat is quite anticlimactic.
Especially in the middle of the ocean.
I mean, it's not nearly as bad as being on a cruise ship, since we're still going along the coastline, for the most part, but… there's really only soling you can stare at the ocean. And at first, I couldn't even read, because I'd just get a headache. That ended after the first week, thankfully.
The first week or two was pretty nice. We packed, traveled to a river, and boarded a boat, which we then sailed down the river to the ocean.
It was a small boat, so we docked for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
Then… we reached the ocean.
We moved to a much bigger sailboat.
I will say, the food is pretty good. It's usually just seafood and rice, but… that's already great. They trail lines behind the ship during the day, and they usually catch something. There's also two large basins with seawater that they keep near the back of the boat, with live crabs and shellfish and stuff. They change the water about twice a day, once in the morning and once at noon, and if we ever stop for a little bit and set down anchor, they drop the cages over the edge of the boat with some bait. The water's usually too deep to catch any shellfish, but fish are easier to catch. Either way, when they pull the cages back up, there's more seafood!
Of course, it's slow and more than a bit wasteful, particularly in terms of money, but… it's nice. It's like an actual vacation.
Okaa-san says that Otou-san was actually the one who designed this boat (specifically, the fresh seafood storage) because he's always loved seafood and wanted to have a good way of storing it even when traveling… and because he was sick to death of the normal food on ships, and the rest of his family weren't much happier. Suffice it to say, I have a new-found respect for Otou-san.
What I have less fondness for… is the other, preserved foods. They're salty and sour. One of the best examples… is probably narezushi.
Narezushi is fermented fish pickled with rice. It's a very old dish, and goes to before we had refrigerators, so people relied on rice and salt to ferment and preserve the fish— usually stored layered in barrels— in the hope of saving it for as long as possible. Narezushi can be made with yellowtail, mackerel or ayu, but the most common type inland is funazushi, made from nigorobuna fish.
Most families have their own distinct recipe, but all share a similar methodology. First, the fish is scaled, gutted and preserved in salt for a few months. Then, it's combined with rice and left to ferment. As long as there's a dark storage space at room temperature, the fish can be left for a few months, years or even decades.
For a long time, people ate only the fish and threw the fermented "stinky rice" out, but then people started eating the half-fermented fish and rice together, which led to the creation of nigirizushi, the now more-familiar style of sushi where people put fresh, sliced seafood on a mouth-sized portion of steamed rice mixed with a bit of sweetened rice vinegar.
Narezushi is usually sold as one whole fish, covered in a goopy, yogurt-like sauce, which people then cut into thin layers and arrange atop a bed of rice in a pretty pattern. Sometimes, though, they prepare narezushi as porridge with hot tea, ochazuke, or even fry it up like tempura.
The thing is… no matter how it's prepared, narezushi is one of those foods that have a super, super strong smell and taste. They're stinky and ridiculously sour, like even more sour that umeboshi.
I don't mind it too much when it's prepared in the second method, but… I'm not eating the head, no matter what. I know Otou-san says that the sign of a good, properly-prepared funazushi is that you can even eat the head, but… I don't believe I am quite ready for that, yet. Maybe when I'm older. Like, a lot older.
Otou-san and Okaa-san are wonderful with the stories they tell, from anecdotes about traveling around the Elemental Nations and how different some of the other lands are to stories about gods and creatures and how different things were before the different Hidden Villages were established.
Is this how parents are normally like? Is this what a family should be like? It seems… like something out of a fairytale, like princesses and princes and knights and evil step-mothers and fairies and… and love and happily-ever-afters.
I love my family. I love my friends. I love this world. And I owe whatever deity brought me here… a very heartfelt thank-you. Whew. Knock on wood. Debts owed to a deity, even if there's only the slimmest of chances that deity exists, should never be left open-ended. That's dangerous. And even if they don't exist… well, I didn't think this world existed either, once. Of course, I might still be dreaming, but… regardless, better safe than sorry.
Aaaaand, moving on from those dreaded things known as… feelings… huh. Onto more feelings. Because Itachi amazing and wonderful and simply so nice. I'd normally feel bad for getting him roped into a month-long babysitting mission, but… I'm the one who's going to be gone for three months, and he's already reassured me multiple times that he doesn't mind, so… I'll take his word for it. For now.
I am thankful he's here, though, because I might have expired from boredom and sheer monotony otherwise. Or I might have exploded from frustration.
You see, Okaa-san's been trying to teach me how to make a temari ball. They're basically just embroidered balls, but they have a long history. They're typically constructed from the remnants of old kimono, so as to not waste the silk. They take a long time to make, and a lot of care. The best temari are so tightly-wrapped that they bounce.
Traditionally, temari are often given to children from their parents on New Year's Day. Inside the tightly wrapped layers of each ball, the mother would have placed a small piece of paper with a goodwill wish for her child. The child would never be told what wish their mother had made while making the ball. Of course, some temari meant primarily as a toy would have "noisemakers" consisting of rice grains or bells to make them more fun.
I have one at home, actually, from my grandmother, Okaa-san's mother, though I didn't know it was so special.
Okaa-san's new excitement to teach me to make them is probably my fault, admittedly. I saw her making them, and well… questions led to answers led to more questions, and…
This is the end result. Apparently, Okaa-san had been thoroughly chastised for neglecting so many of her skills when she went back to her family, so she's now trying to pick everything back up again. That's great. And she's also eager to teach me, since I exhibited interest. That's also great.
What's not great? I am three years old. Okay, I'm almost four, but… my fingers are like baby sausages! My drawings are splotchy and not clean enough! My handwriting's still really rough! I still can't make nice circles or smooth, consistent lines! My calligraphy is cringe-worthy!
I. Am. A. Toddler.
And thus… needles… kind of hurt. And it's frustrating, too. Do you know how hard it is to get a small needle through tough fabric?!
I'm sad, too. I'd wanted to get good at making them, so I could give them to my friends as gifts for their birthdays next year. According to Okaa-san, temari are highly valued and cherished gifts, symbolizing deep friendship and loyalty, and the brilliant colors and threads used are symbolic of wishing the recipient a brilliant and happy life. See? Perfect for birthday gifts.
...and so, I've settled for learning to make kunihimo braids, instead. They're been used for everything from Shinto rituals, as accessories, to ornamental features in traditional suits of armor. Some types, like the obijime, are also used to tie kimono, and some others fasten haori.
I'm learning it the traditional way— finger-loop braiding. When we get back, though, Okaa-san says she'll teach me to use the marudai and takadai to create more complex braids more quickly.
There are a lot of different types. First off, there are more than 40 different basic ways of braiding kumihimo. Combined with different kinds of patterns and shapes, that means that the total number of types of kumihimo number around, like, 3,000. That's a lot, but they're all important.
Kumihimo represent an entire culture of braiding. They're used not just to bundle objects together, but the differences in their their use, color, and braiding style have also come to represent gender, indicate social standing, and show wealth. Those in positions of power (coughcoughthenobilitycoughcough) use kumihimo to show off their status.
…
Sometimes I kinda wish Okaa-san didn't come from such a… old, noble, traditionally-inclined… important… family.
There is so much that I need to learn. I will need to learn the traditions of the Nakatomi, which is what the Fujiwara used to be (the name changed and that's basically it? Which is weird?), various musical instruments, archery, how to properly ride a horse (there's a way? As in, other than just not falling or making a food of myself?), calligraphy, art, games of strategy, how to use a sword, how to write poetry, and mathematics.
The first and last are probably unique to me. Other boys born to nobility just need to focus on the eight: music, archery, horseback riding, calligraphy, art, strategy, swordsmanship, and poetry. Some, who will need to manage stuff, might learn mathematics in addition to or instead of poetry, but that's usually just for scholars.
Girls usually substitute the horseback riding, strategy, and swordsmanship with the three classical arts of refinement— kadō (flower-arrangement), kōdō (incense appreciation), and chadō (tea ceremony).
I'm not sure about appreciating incense, but the other two sound interesting… and very familiar. I kind of want to learn them as well… but not now. Yep, I'm back to procrastinating. But seriously, can you blame me? The first ten's stuff I kind of have to do, regardless, simply because of who I am. The next two's stuff I feel an obligation (and an interest) in learning, simply because of my home— the tea shop. Maybe incense-appreciation will eventually end up there, but… I doubt it. I'm not the most fond of incense. But… the rest of what I want to learn is entirely on my own shoulders.
I don't have to be a shinobi. I don't have to learn every shinobi art. But… I want to. Chakra is amazing, and shinobi… they're amazing. I want to be part of the world that Itachi and Shisui and Shino and… and Hizashi-san and Neji-san and Kagami-jiisan and everyone else is a part of.
Or maybe i'm just a masochist and want to cause myself undue pain and stress. That's still a possibility.
But for now, I'm still young. I can leave that for later, even if later's just a day, or a month, or a year. Now… thanks to whoever gave me this chance, I can be a kid.
…
And that means playing silly games like cat's cradle. Itachi shows me how. I learned the two-person version Before… but then I forgot. It's called ayatori here. I never realized there was a one-person version, though. It's so cool! It's hard sometimes, on the fingers, and Itachi explains that it's traditional in the Uchiha to learn that as a child, since it helps prepare children to work with ninja wire.
We don't just play, though.
Even though it's a bit awkward running through some exercises and stretches, since we share a cabin, I show Itachi how I've progressed. He teaches me some kata, the forms for the Academy's taijutsu style as well as something I'm pretty sure is what the Uchiha use… but he simply smiles and doesn't answer when I ask. It might be just as well, because I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to learn those. They're clan kata.
But Itachi's the heir to the clan in question, so… I'll just follow his lead in this, I guess. Part of the most arguably-useless part of the voyage is probably my tendency to follow the sailors around to ask them questions about all of the terminology.
I don't get everything, unfortunately. Most of the terms are just for parts of the ship. Sometimes, there are lots of different phrases for one part. Some are words that I actually know the English equivalent to. Others… are not. And other words… no one actually gives me a translation to, other than to say that they are rude. I do my best to mentally block them out. I have enough troubles with accidentally being rude that I'd rather not even have the memory of how to purposefully be rude.
Overall, it's a nice trip. The wood's warm and soft, it's pretty dry, and… it's just nice. Even the gentle rolling of the ship and occasional leaning don't bother me, after a while.
Of course, then a storm catches us by surprise.
It started at twilight, when the sun has set but there's still light around the horizon. The day had been cloudy, but all of a sudden, the wind dropped.
At first, everyone was just a bit wary. But when the wind shifted direction and seemed to become colder, before coming back stronger…
Everyone panicked.
It was a bad time, since we were finishing dinner. No one was really prepared. There was a shout, and then everyone just started running everywhere. Some people climbed up the masts, and… it was like they tied part of the sail to the mast, as if to make it smaller. I've read about that… I think they're reefing the sails. I don't know what they call it in this world, but it reduces the surface area and thus, the drag of the cloth, which makes it so they don't catch as much air.
Itachi found me, and we're try to keep out of the way right now. We cleaning up the deck as much as we can. We normally eat on the deck, with the fresh air, and… everyone just dropped their stuff and ran. Some people nearly trip on the plates, and… oh, no, the rocking of the boat means some almost fall into the ocean.
Yeah, there's a border around the deck, but it's a fence. There are gaps in the bottom, so that any water that gets on the deck can get out.
The captain runs to the big steering stick of the boat— the tiller— and points the ship into the wind. The shinobi, scarily enough, can't really help— they don't know how. They're below the deck, strapping everything down. Okaa-san and Otou-san are with them. My mind scrambles with a list of possible sources of danger. There's the lamps, and the flames for cooking, and… and everything paper, which needs to be wrapped in waterproof oilcloth and carefully shut away. There's the clothing, which could get damaged by salt water. They need to close the doors, to make sure no water gets through. And… and… they're dumping things over the sides?
Before I can run over and ask where we're supposed to be, they rush back down and… I hear hammering. They're… they're nailing down the entrances?
I almost run out, but Itachi grabs me, thankfully. By now, the boat's rocking pretty severely, and… I flinch as droplets of water hit my face. I squint upwards.
Of course. It's raining.
I almost fall as the boat tilts again, and there's probably bruises on my knees and arms from falling into things. I taste salt, and I'm not sure if it's from the waves that splash onto the deck or from panicked tears. It's scary, especially since I'm this small.
A sailor finds us and curses. He talks so quickly that I don't catch everything, but I hear something about being downstairs. The sailor runs a hand down his face and curses, before grabbing me and shoving me at Itachi, along with a line of rope. He loop the line around my midsection, just under my arms, wrapping it around several times, before tying two quick knots to secure it. Itachi, eyes glowing red, immediately copies him.
The sailor runs the two lines over to the nearest mast, where he secures them. I wobble on my feet, before decisively sitting down… and wincing. It's cold. I flinch, then blink furiously. The waves have gotten so high that they wash over the fence, and they splash me. I feel a tug on the rope, and I look over. Itachi! I crawl over, wincing as a splinter embeds itself into my palm.
This is too slow.
I carefully prop myself back upright, feet wide apart for balance, and shuffle towar…
The boat tilts again, and I trip. I catch myself on my hands, carefully crawling ove… something tugs, and I fall again, banging my face and elbows on the wood. Without that balance, I roll.
Ow! I bring up my arms to protect my fact, but… my knees and elbows are banged up and I'm dizzy because it's so dark and I can't see… and I manage to stop myself, but a bucket hits the side of my head, and I fall again, and I can't get my arms free of the rope!
The thin coil of rope that I had accidentally stepped in on my way over is now firmly wrapped, like a noose, around my ankle. I'm tangled in a mess of rope… I don't even know which lines I'm tangled in.
Something yanks at me, and I look up to see glowing red eyes and thankgoodnessItachi, and hands tug loose the mess of rope and I open my mouth to shout a 'thank you'... but a wave washes over me and I cough, sputtering… only to feel another sharp tug at my ankle and ow and I'm facing out now and nonononono… oomph!
The rope around my waist catches me, and for a moment, I hang there, relieved, but in pain.
But then I feel a creaking and my heart jumps to my throat and it snaps, and I topple forward, my head hits the floor and my arms hurt and I'm rolling and my back hits the railing, and for a moment, it holds, but everything's upside-down— no, that's just me… oh, no my legs fly back and I manage to crab the wooden railing but something pops in my shoulder and painpainpain and I open my mouth to scream because I'm falling and then…
Cold. So cold. I try to take in a gulp of air, but I only swallow sea water, which makes me choke and cough and flail. There's still a tangle of stuff around my legs… no, my leg, but my arm hurts and feels weird and I can't move it but I still try to claw myself up but I barely manage to cough up what water's in my lungs before a wave crashes over me and I'mupsidedownIcan'tseemyeysburnmylungsburnIcan'tbreath… but then I manage to kick at my ankle and I think the rope scraped my skin but it's off and the wave passes and I manage to bob back to the surface, coughing and sputtering as I try to take another breath of air only to get another wave in my face. It's smaller, thankfully, and I manage to gasp in air before my water-logged clothes and the rope around my chest that once kept me safe now pull me down.
This time, though, I keep my mind, and though my fingers and toes are numb with the cold, I manage, I force them to tug at the knot. I bob up, and I take another breath that's half-water and half-air, but I force my lungs not to expel everything immediately, and… got it!
I bob up again, trying to get numb fingers from bruised arms and a shoulder than won't work to grasp a zipper. My jacket's catching too much water… it's too heavy. Another gasp of water-filled air and I bob back down, giving up on the zipper and tugging at the bottom, clumsily bringing it over my head— thank goodness I managed to kick off the shoes earlier, even if now my toes feel more like lumps of ice than parts of my body— but I barely manage to get it off my arm before I pop back up and I instinctively gasp at the air but the sodden cloth is over my face and I inhale water and… it's off. I manage to tread water for a little longer, just enough to cough up water and gasp for air before I feel the water rising and dive under, heart racing and air not lasting long enough and I force myself back up in time to gasp air and scream "KID OVERBO-" only to get cut off by a wave in my face.
I cough as I pull myself back up to the surface of the water, squinting through the burn of saltwater in sensitive tissues, shouting again, "HELP! KID OV-" only to get another gasp of water, and then my lungs burn and any breath I gasp doesn't last long enough and everything's dark and I can't see and my arms and legs they feel more like lumps of icy wood than limbs. I can't feel them, and it's only fear and adrenaline that keeps me moving. I feel like I've swallowed several gallons of ocean water, and inhaled about the same amount. My throat and sinuses burn from the salt, and… I'm tired and everything's numb and I'm sleepy and…
A hand grabs my arm. It tugs up… then down, as the wave falls and I squint through the water… red. Glowing red. I smile, but a wave in my face causes me to cough and splutter.
The hand's replaced with an arm, that latches under my arms, and I cling to it as my head goes under the water before I surface.
"Ma—koto" a voice sputters, next to my ear. "Don't… move! Try… try to float."
Itachi! I immediately obey his instructions as I stop pedalling frantically and try to lean backward, squeezing my eyes shut. He shoves something into my arms, closing my hands around it… a piece of wood? He pulls me through the water, which… seems to be calmer. I sputter and cough as small wave breaks over my face, but I don't let myself start flailing. It's actually easy, considering how numb my entire body feels, to just not do anything.
It's so cold… and now that I've stopped moving, I realize how tired my entire body feels. The adrenaline wears off quickly too, and I realize that I'm barely shivering anymore, even if my teeth chatter when I try and say anything.
I'm so cold… and so tired.
Maybe if I just… close my eyes a moment.
...I'm so tired…
It is by its breath
That autumn's leaves of trees and grass
Are wasted and driven.
So they call this mountain wind
The wild one, the destroyer.
— Fun'ya no Yasuhide
吹くからに
秋の草木の
しをるれば
むべ山風を
あらしといふらむ
— 文屋康秀
Fuku kara ni
Aki no kusaki no
Shiorureba
Mube yama kaze o
Arashi to iuran
— Fun'ya no Yasuhide
Author's Note: CLIFFHANGER! *cackling evilly*
If anyone can tell me what's going to happen in this story arc (just a hint... I'm drawing inspiration from a rather-popular existing SI-OC-type story)... I'll try to finish this story arc before February.