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Takenoko

Bamboo Shoots

"Look, look! It is His Grace!"

"Oh! His Majesty's personal advisor…?"

"Oh, but they did not exaggerate at all! He really is so handsome and kind-looking…"

"Hush, he will hear us!"

Kiku listened to the gentlewomen whispering behind the blinds, and sighed lightly. They tittered amongst themselves and stole furtive glances at him as he passed by; their colorful sleeves peeped out from under the blinds, a rainbow of silks. When he looked over to nod at them, smiling politely, they giggled and modestly averted their eyes, hiding painted faces behind their fans or their hands. Even as he continued on his way, he could feel curious gazes peering after him and boring into his back.

It was not good, however, for him to be seen in this way — but then in truth, it was hard to hide oneself completely when one lives in the Greater Palace, where the nobility and high aristocrats as well as their plethora of servants thrived. There, rarely was one ever truly alone. Fujiwara-no-Kiku was thus unusual in that he was almost never accompanied by an escort, nor a group of servant women.

Though considering who — or what — he truly was, that was the wiser choice.

So he walked alone out of the inner palace, heading towards the eastern gate. A palm-leaf ox carriage waited for him there, attended by four grooms, along with a young boy who looked perhaps twelve years old. This boy, he realized, was his escort, meaning the boy was to be the announcer who preceded the cart and declare the procession's presence so that passerby could make way. Kiku sighed. The Emperor was going out of his way for him again. Not that Kiku didn't understand the necessity of it, as it would look odd if a nobleman had no escort. But still, he preferred more anonymity, to call as little attention to himself as possible. An escort boy shouting his presence was hardly inconspicuous.

He exhaled softly and approached the carriage, the grooms and the escort jumping to attention when he did. They made a lovely sight, dressed in silks dyed exquisitely in light blue and violet. But they paled in comparison to his richer, more aristocratic clothing; whereas the servitors wore mere servant dress (dignified, yes, but not so opulent), he wore the court dress of a nobleman. Although not the full formal dress for ceremony, it was still an extremely noble look, with a leaf-green dress cloak tied over a gown and shift, and yellow gathered trousers. The colors he wore were known as "maidenflower layering," and suited the summer season well. Topped off with a formal kanmuri cap, it was clear this man was not from the lower ranks of the aristocracy.

Kiku greeted the grooms and inclined his head towards the boy (who could not have bowed lower if the Emperor himself had come by), then stepped into the carriage. One of the grooms reached over to undo the cord that held the blinds up. With a whispery sound, the bamboo blinds descended and Kiku found himself enclosed in a small, shaded space, sweetly perfumed from incense. After a few more seconds of bustle, the ox lowed and the cart started forward with a mild lurch. They were on their way.

Kiku leaned on one of the cart's silk cushions and heaved a sigh. Finally, he could relax a little. Within the palace and among all the powerful nobles, he had to make a constant, conscious effort to keep them from finding out too much about him. Which was no small feat, considering the number of social gatherings they had, and the like. Even the monks were less reclusive than him.

He watched the world go by from the little window as they left the Greater Palace, heading into the city. Outside the palace, outside the sprawling walls of prosperity, he could see them. The men with skin browned from the harsh sun, with hands rough and callused from manual labor. The peasant women who sat selling rice, babies strapped to their backs as they called out their wares. The beggars who slept by the roadside, faces dusty beneath their rags. The children who ran after his cart, laughing and barefoot, their little feet blackened with filth. When he extended out a hand to wave at them, they pointed at his brocade sleeves, eyes wide with delight and wonder.

The weariness in his young face softened.

It was not just the noblemen behind their walls of gold and silk who were his people. These tired farmers and suffering beggars were his people, too.

The cart continued on and eventually left the city, leaving behind the children with callused feet. All the noise and bustle quieted down until only the sound of wind in the trees remained. He gave a sigh through his nose and closed his eyes. This was peace. Even the unsteady rattling of the cart did not bother him. Nothing could touch him. The scent of the air, perfumed only by clouds and sky. A breeze murmuring through the tall grass. The rustle of the trees' branches, unseen birds singing in their boughs.

This was his land.

This was his being.

This was Kiku's very reason for existence.

The carriage went on rattling, and he exhaled softly.

He was headed towards a place very special to him, somewhere he went when he thought he'd had enough of palace life. It was an almost holy place, he felt, with a sacredness that did not come from any sort of faith or religion. Yes, it was something else that made this place feel so sacrosanct. He just couldn't name it. Perhaps that was all right.

The ride there took two days, during which Kiku's procession stopped at two different temples for food and rest. Each time the monks welcomed them, serving them wine and suihan, rice chilled in cold water for the summer heat. Under his grooms' prompting, Kiku also requested a short service of penance, so that they might pray for his safe travels; to thank them, he donated swaths of rich silk to the temples. The chanted prayers of the monks and the temple bell's somnolent toll followed him as he continued to the east.

Finally, on the early evening of the third day, they arrived. The grooms halted the ox and pushed open the blinds for Kiku to emerge. The wind swirled as if to greet him, bringing with it an earthy fragrance. It seemed as if the very air was tinted jade green, and Kiku had to stop to admire it, his dress cloak fluttering in the breeze.

It was a bamboo forest he stood in, and a most beautiful one at that.

"Will you take the carriage to the mountain temple? I am sure that the holy man will understand if you tell him I have lingered to admire the bamboo."

There was another temple not far off from the bamboo forest, though it could hardly be called that. It was much smaller than the two they had stayed at, to the point of resembling a secluded hovel above anything. An ascetic lived there, alone, and when sent a letter he had replied welcoming their company. Kiku had little doubt he would not mind if the nobleman spent some time in the beautiful forest.

In any case, his party also understood but refused. "Night is almost upon us, my lord. Even here there is the danger of bandits," said one of the grooms — apparently the highest-ranking. "It would be best if we wait for you and then take you up to the temple, Your Grace."

A small smile fell across Kiku's face and he nodded once. However, he did ask that they wait at the forest edge; he preferred to be alone in the midst of such beauty. They agreed, and watched as he roamed into the bamboo.

Unnameable birds flitted back and forth above his head, their voices high and pure, their shadows flickering quickly across the ground. The moon was rising, its pale outline shone through the slender leaves. The entire forest was lit blue-green by the brightening moonlight; to the west, the sky was streaked with gold and orange that deepened into indigo as one turned towards the east.

He inhaled the cool air deeply. Yes, there was a truly holy quality to this place. It was really quite unreasonable how he thought so (would he think the same for other bamboo forests?) but he couldn't help it. The towering stalks that appeared to be of jade, the sweet air, the hollow whistle of wind through bamboo — he couldn't help but love it.

It was while thinking such thoughts that he turned, and saw the glowing stalk.

"What…?" He blinked, then looked again. It was glowing! A single stalk of bamboo, just slightly bigger than those around it, seemed to emit a soft, golden light from within. It didn't fade as he cautiously approached it; in fact he thought the light grew brighter. His hands dropped to the sword hanging at his waist. The blade was intended for ceremony, really, but that did not mean it was not sharp. He unsheathed it and knelt by the glowing bamboo, never taking his eyes off it.

Bamboo was known for its resilience, the range of its use and the strength of its wood. Yet to Kiku's surprise, it was remarkably easy to cut through the stalk, even though it was as wide as his outstretched hand. Indeed, one stroke of his blade was all it took to cut it down. The bamboo shuddered under his sword and, slowly, tilted sideways, falling to the ground with an almost dramatic slowness.

There was a soft thud when it fell, the impact causing stray leaves to fly up into the air. In the moonlight, the leaves appeared like strips of shadow.

Kiku sheathed his sword slowly, eyes on the bamboo stalk. The light continued to glow, but it was dying down now, and he could make out an image within its depths. No, wait — he drew a sharp breath and his eyes widened.

It was not an image. It was a tiny figure.

The golden light faded away at last, and under the moonlight, the little figure in the stalk of bamboo seemed to glow snowy-white. And as Kiku watched, it stirred slightly, apparently waking up.

A baby girl, no bigger than his thumb, stretched out her arms and yawned, her open mouth a dot of pink on her face. She was perfect, albeit very small. Button eyes blinked open, sleepy, and with another adorable yawn, she rubbed them with tiny fists.

Kiku couldn't say a word, utterly stunned. But then suddenly, the tiny baby rolled over and began to tip out of the stalk. With a frightened gasp, Kiku's hands shot out to catch her. She landed neatly into the palms of his hands, her skin as pale as his. In the moonlight, she was very delicate and very ethereal.

The tiny child stirred and curled against his thumb. Kiku blinked, then smiled a bit when he felt the littlest fingers squeeze his hand, a tiny sigh against his skin. He felt her heartbeat as a quick tap-tap-tap against his palm, and he slowly clutched her close to his chest.

There was no doubt in his mind that he was holding something very, very precious.

"Ha... Hello there, little one…"