Midwife of the Soul: Chapter 14

An Indirect Confession

Monday morning they posted the results of the Fuuka University entrance exams. I almost wandered over to check them, but stopped myself. Why was going to do that? Of course I wanted to know if Shizuru was accepted, that would mean our "study times" together could continue. At least I assumed they could.

But it would be pointless for me to go check. I had been foolish enough not have not learned Shizuru's number.

Sigh.

I'd have to wait for her to tell me. I knew she would, but I didn't want to wait. I made myself wait anyway. Maybe it would do me good. ...Yeah, right.

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I took advantage of a break between periods to stretch my legs, using the restroom as an excuse. Maybe the physical activity of walking there would help work off my impatience.

Shizuru met me in the hall. I wonder if she was planning this? I wouldn't put it past her. Did she know my schedule that well? Or did she have some special ability to sense where I was? Why did I find that possibility felt reassuring, not creepy?

"Hello, Natsuki."

Her smile strengthened my hope she had been accepted. But then again, she always greets me with a smile. I had learned a while back that these smiles she gives me are always sincere and heartfelt, not the normal mask she shows the world.

"Hey." I returned her greeting.

I couldn't contain my curiosity, so I asked, "Well?" I knew Shizuru would understand I was asking about the exams.

"I passed," she answered. "I'll be going to Fuuka University."

"Congratulations." I felt my whole face light up with happiness. "I knew you would."

And I truly felt that. Earlier, I had told her she would pass. My doubts and fears came not from a lack of faith in Shizuru's ability. Oh no. They came from my knowledge that the universe is loathe to give me anything good. And I realized that Shizuru's continued presence and company was unquestionably a good thing.

Shizuru's smile grew with mine. It seems this was the outcome both of us wanted.

ooo OOO ooo

The next day was Valentine's Day. I didn't do anything for it. That was nothing new. I've never given anyone Valentine's chocolate.

Why was I even thinking about it? I had wondered if Shizuru might give me some. In years past, she had teased me about doing so, but never actually followed through with the gift. She hadn't teased me about it this year. Did that mean she would actually give me some?

I know she has the feelings to back up such a gift. If she held back, it could be because she didn't want to annoy me by pushing our relationship too much. She knew I wasn't into romantic gestures like that.

So why was I wondering if she would give me chocolate? And even more so, why was I worried she might not? This was the first time I'd ever felt that way.

Hmm...

As I thought about it, I realized that both Shizuru giving me chocolate, and also her refraining from doing so, were both ways for her to show her love for me. The giving was an obvious traditional message. Her holding back was more complicated—and more Shizuru. She would be telling me that she knew I disliked romantic gestures like that, and that she loved me enough she would not do something she quite wanted to, just because I would be happier if she didn't.

That is one twisted train of thought. Yes, it's complicated, just like Shizuru. Why did it come so easily to my mind, and why was I so sure her thoughts would follow that path? Maybe I understand her better than I realize.

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It turned out that Shizuru didn't give me any Valentine's chocolate. I still don't know how I would have reacted if she had. I chose to believe she followed the train of thought I imagined. But why did that even matter to me?

ooo OOO ooo

My mind kept coming back to these thoughts for the next week.

I headed to the pool to swim laps and let my mind sift through those thoughts. I tended to swim either to work off frustration (There was plenty of that around. Idiots!) or to give myself time to think. It's good exercise, and I still wanted to keep fit even if I didn't have to stay literally "in fighting trim." It was certainly safer to let my mind wander in the pool than on my motorcycle: my brain-stem would keep me from drowning or hitting the end of the pool. Also, nobody bothers you while you're swimming (I'd be impressed if they could hold a conversation then). The school even did a reasonable job of keeping the guys from doing anything worse than mild ogling, and even tried to minimize that.

Wow, Haruka's actually good for something. I never would have guessed.

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Once in the water, I let my mind wander freely down its confused tangle of paths.

Why is it that I find myself ...my life filled with feelings and emotion of late?

Yeah, during and before the Carnival I found myself filled with the desire for revenge and hatred for those who'd killed Mother. But this was different, way different. I didn't want to lash out and destroy. I just was—I'm not sure, I'm not familiar with emotions, but... I guess "happiness" is the best word for what I felt filled my life. It was not a familiar feeling, but I rather liked it, and wanted it to become familiar.

I did a flip turn and continued thinking.

This year, I'd even begun laughing out of sheer joy. It'd been forever (well, over a decade) since I'd done that, and it felt good. But why was I happy? What was different?

A split second later it hit me ...like an express train.

Oh!

I was finally starting to figure things out.

Shizuru was the answer. She was what was different. She the source of this happiness.

I had to tell her. But what? And how?

I wanted to thank Shizuru for all she has done for me. She's certainly done a lot, and I didn't want her to graduate without knowing how I appreciated it.

My limbs stopped and I coasted to the end of the lane.

I floated there for a minute as it came to me.

The reason Shizuru was the answer was the love she gave me ...the love I had been missing ever since Mom was killed. Yes, Shizuru's love was different, and I still didn't know what my feelings for her were, but Shizuru deserved to be thanked. Definitely.

I pushed off and resumed swimming while I pondered this new question.

My mind switched lanes from what I would tell Shizuru to pondering how to. If I tried to tell her directly, I'd be reduced to red-faced stammering before I got two words into it. She'd find that cute, but it would quite fail in the communication department.

Maybe a note?

No. My writing hand would freeze up the same way my vocal cords would. And I'd still have the problem of coming up with the right words. I doubted they would come when needed.

Stroke. Kick. Breathe. Stroke.

Words!

My mind wandered back to watching Orange Days together with Shizuru at New Year's. We both enjoyed that. The show also taught me that some messages are better conveyed in ways other than words, spoken or written. I remembered the scene where Shohei gave Akane the album of the photos he took on his trip, and how he was able to speak to her through his camera, and he spoke eloquently through it.

I'm no photographer, but could I find another method? I only needed to speak to Shizuru. Maybe something traditional?

She would like that, but there was no way I could find just the right classical poem to say what I wanted. My trying that would be like a beginner at Kendo going up against Miyamoto Musashi. But the old ways are meaningful to Shizuru.

That made me think of how poetry was traditionally used back then. Heian nobles made a habit of exchanging poetry (laden with the many levels of meaning and allusion Shizuru likes).

Our Japanese Literature teacher illustrated this with some examples from Sei Shōnagon. In one, Sei told how a poem was sent attached to a spray of clover. In fact, poems were usually sent attached to some flower suitably matching the season as well as the poem's contents. My mind conveniently ignored the fact that this type of exchange of poems invariably followed a gentleman's nighttime visit to his lover.

I can see similarities between Sei and Shizuru: the two of them would either have gotten along splendidly or clashed spectacularly.

Wait! I could forget about finding a poem for Shizuru and just give flowers.

I couldn't hope for skill in choosing, much less writing poetry, but flower language... That stood a chance of working for me. I could look up that and hopefully find a flower that meant what I wanted to tell Shizuru. I know she would understand. And that unconventional, yet classical touch would also mean something to her.

Now that I think about it, I should have taken it as a sign that my brain easily slipped from Shizuru to Heian-era lover's customs ...and thought them fitting.

I swam two more laps with renewed vigor, then climbed out of the pool.

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I showered and dressed, and headed over to the library with new-found purpose. It only took a quick search to find a book on flower language. As I looked through the pages of flowers, descriptions, and associated meanings, I realized that it was also easier for me to pick from a list than to try to come up with words on my own.

There! I found it.

"White Azaleas: I am fortunate to have your love."

And it looks like azaleas would even be season now. Lucky me!

I looked a bit further to make sure there was nothing more suitable, but this felt best. When I found that azaleas in general also include the meaning of self-restraint, that cinched the deal. I knew Shizuru was holding back for my sake (which I appreciated), and in some sense I was holding myself back because I still did not know what I wanted. Yes, azaleas were the answer.

The book went back on the shelf and I was grateful that no-one had seen me take it down or look through it. I was feeling both private and nervous about this.

A plan coalesced in my head as I walked to and ate dinner.

ooo OOO ooo

I surreptitiously bought a small vase, a suitable box, a note-card, some "Fragile, This Side Up" stickers, and stashed them all in the cargo pod of my bike. They would be safe from discovery there and also be handy when opportunity arose.

Two days later my chance came. Independent study for seniors meant Shizuru's schedule was a bit less predictable now than it had been. She had a meeting with some of the other seniors and faculty to discuss plans for the graduation ceremony, which meant she wouldn't be home this evening.

I zipped into town and bought three white azaleas. A quick stop in an out-of-the way spot let me put them in the vase, box up the whole affair, and write a quick note to go with it. I was able to get out "Yes, I do mean this. Thank you. —Natsuki" without my hand or mind freezing up.

I doubt any of Shizuru's neighbors noticed me leave this box by her apartment door. I disappeared into the evening, smiling at how my practice at sneaking around and stealthy investigation was good for more than just finding Mother's killers.

I spent the rest of the evening riding the roads in the hills near town. Riding my motorcycle was therapeutic, and it also meant nobody could ask why I was being uncharacteristically nervous. I was really worried about how Shizuru would receive my message.

Late that evening, I returned to the dorms and headed straight to bath and bed. Mai tried berating me for staying out and making her worry. She actually looked concerned.

"Sorry, Mai," I countered. "I was having such a good time out riding my bike that I lost track of time ...well, of how long it would take to get back."

"Natsuki—"

I interrupted. "Mai, I'm sorry I made you worry. I just want to go to bed now. I'm beat."

I flopped down on my bed, pulled up the futon, closed my eyes, and ignored her. After a little, I heard her walk off and quietly instruct Mikoto not to bother me. I guess the combination of apology with a bit of the old "Ice Princess Natsuki" had done the trick. I did not want to talk to anyone about this yet.

My uncertainties also meant that, no matter what I pretended, I did not have a very restful night.

ooo OOO ooo

The next day, I headed over to study with Shizuru. We continued getting together to study even though she didn't have normal classes anymore.

Shizuru seemed uncharacteristically nervous when she answered the door and let me in. The vase with my azaleas was sitting in the middle of the table.

"Natsuki," she asked me, "do you know the flower language? ...You do know what white azaleas mean in flower language?"

My assumption was correct, she understood.

"Yes," I answered, "I know." I found that her understanding and simple—though I dare not say calm—acceptance brought me the tranquility to add, "I really am fortunate in having your love."

With a cry of "Natsuki!" she rounded the table and enveloped me in a tight, strong hug.

This felt surprisingly good. My subconscious smiled and nodded. Neither my conscious nor subconscious mind wanted this to stop, so I returned Shizuru's hug.

Had I ever done that before? I don't think so.

Shizuru buried her face in my shoulder. We just stood there: me silent and Shizuru quietly mumbling incoherently into my collarbone.

If this is the aftermath of telling Shizuru my thoughts, I think I can cope. I would normally find an incoherent Shizuru a bit disturbing, but if she is incoherent from this much joy—and I could tell I had just made her indescribably happy—then I don't think I mind at all. I like a happy Shizuru, and holding her here like this felt... good, right, ...some word I myself was too happy to think of.

After a while, we both loosened our embrace and looked at each other.

"Thank you, Natsuki," she said, wiping tears of joy from her eyes. "Did you actually go look up the flower language just for this? ...just for me?"

"Yeah. I'm not good with words, so I thought this might be a way to say this that you would know."

It looked like I made the right choice. It felt right. I was glad I'd told Shizuru this, and in this way. Her joy made me doubly glad I had done so. Now, if only I could figure out what my own feelings were. Then I'd have to tell that to her as well.

How I was reacting ought to have been a pretty big clue. It was at least starting to make its way through my thick skull.

"Thank you, Shizuru," I told her. "I really am glad that you love me, though it's only been in the past months that I've seen how important your love is to me. I... I don't know whether I can really love ...anyone. I've spent so much of my life focused on revenge and denying anything like love... But... but I want to stay with you, and if... could you... can you have the patience to wait for me to see if I can love you... like... like you deserve."

I was amazed I got these words out. They brought even more of a smile to Shizuru's face. And that smile made me even more glad I'd done this.

"That's all right, Natsuki," she told me. "What you've just given me is more than I ever hoped for... better than I ever deserved. I will always be here for you. I do love you. I will wait as long as you need, and if you do not find love like you say, I will still be happy to be your friend, ...very happy."

And she would, too. Her patience, her acceptance, her love: those were what I wanted and needed.

The tears dripping from her chin were like drops from a melting icicle heralding the coming spring. Was this my spring? I didn't need to decide today. I felt warm and safe and free to take my time deciding what I felt. Shizuru would be there with me, waiting, accepting, never pushing. She was happy. And her love and acceptance would give me the strength to find my own heart.

With a contented sigh, Shizuru buried her face in my hair again.

We kept holding each other. Something in me never wished this to stop.

We didn't get much studying done that evening.

Cultural Note:
Natsuki's thoughts about Valentine's chocolate come from the Japanese tradition of women giving chocolate to the object of their affections on that day. I think it a clever marketing move by the Japanese candy industry to basically create this tradition as a way to boost sales. Japanese industry then went one better, by creating a whole new holiday, "white day" a month later for those given chocolate to reciprocate with another gift.

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Natsuki compares her vying with Shizuru in Japanese poetry to "a beginner at Kendo going up against Miyamoto Musashi." Musashi was the premier swordsman of the Edo period. He fought over 60 duels and was never defeated. In his later years, he wrote The Book of Five Rings on swordsmanship, strategy and philosophy, which is still popular and in print today. Thus, a beginner at Kendo, the modern martial art descended from traditional Japanese swordsmanship, would be hopelessly outclassed by this great master.

Natsuki may be exaggerating for emphasis, but it does show how high an opinion she has of Shizuru's facility with Classical Japanese literature.

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Sei Shōnagon was an attendant to the Empress Teishi around 1000 AD (in the Heian era), and was renowned for her literary talent and sharp wit. Her Pillow Book is a collection of lists, musings and observations by Sei which gives us a vivid picture of Heian courtly life. Some have even referred to it as "the first blog," for it shares some of those characteristics (though is far better written than most blogs). It spawned the zuihitsu literary genre in Japan, which includes Kenkō's Essays in Idleness that Shizuru quoted multiple times in Rebirth of Love.

The following is probably the section from the Pillow Book that Natsuki's teacher used to illustrate this form of morning-after Heian poetry exchange.

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"While all this is afoot, the lady's original lover has been busy with his own next-morning letter, and now, before anyone expected it, the messenger arrives at his lady's house. The letter is attached to a spray of clover, which is still damp with dew, and the paper gives off a delighted aroma of incense."

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