The Bloom of the Mountain Cherry
Chapter
3- Sorrow, Whose Tears Cry the River
My own life is so tenuous I
hardly give it a thought, yet to know the demise of another is piercingly sad.
-Murasaki Shikibu
The turning of the tide of sleep was vastly different in this night. Used to
the gentle vision blurring and soft smells that accompanied her to Kami's
world, the feeling of being ripped apart from within forced a scream into her
throat, which was swiftly joined by the keening of other women, who tore at
their hair. Eyes impossibly close to the screen she stood before, Ami spun,
finding herself in a shuttered portion of a room, several serving women sitting
on the floor just below her. They wailed and cringed, high keening noises
coming from them as though in pain.
"Kami-chan?" Ami spun around, in search of her friend. The women
paid no attention to her, and she tried to step between them, to seek out Kami.
"Demons!" One of the women sobbed, comforted by the shoulder of
another.
Demons? No! Please, please, I can't be too late....
Ami stumbled
in her haste, tripping over the skirts of another woman. "Excuse me,
please, where is..." I don't even know her true name...."the lady of the house?
A girl, about my-" Ami stopped, then waved a hand before the eyes of the
woman, who looked through her. They can't see me....
There was a
screen separating the wailing women from the rest of the room, lilies with tiny
fireflies dancing around them decorating it. A soft orange glow from a candle
flickered on the screen's opposite side, causing the black silhouettes to
dance. Other shadows moved before it, human bodies of different sizes and
shapes. Casting a glance swiftly, Ami judged that it was nearing evening, by
the narrow slats of light that cut across the floor through the closed window.
From the other side of the screen, Ami heard a chant go up, a sharp, staccato
mantra that cut into the air.
Edging her way past the moaning women, she slid herself around the separating
screen, and what she saw made her heart nearly stop.
They got her.
In the room's center, Kami lay on a futon, her black hair undone from its
loops, swimming out around her head in snaking curls. She was pale, very pale,
her skin nearly transcluscent and flecked with perspiration, heavy bangs matted
to her forehead, thin blue veins visible under her eyelids. A blanket had been
placed over her, and one of her hands peeked out from under it.
An old priest, grizzled, had begun this chant, holding a clove-scented fan.
There was a girl, young, maybe eleven or twelve, who sat upon a dais in the
front of the room. She was thin and slightly dirty, with rumpled hair and empty
eyes. Her orange gown and and white pants stood in stark contrast with her
black hair. There was the faint smell of poppy seed burning, hanging sweetly in
the air. As the priest chanted, she began to shake, her body writhing into
convulsions as the priest drove out the demon that had possessed Kami.
In the corner, an elderly, white haired man sat, deep pockets of flesh around
what would have been twinkling eyes. Kami's father, Ami believed, since
he sat wrapped in a shawl, though the evening was not so cold. It was the way
of things, in such a period without science, to believe that illness was the
work of a demon in possession of the person's spirit. The priest would
banish it, attempt to identify it.
What demon has done this to you?
Ami knelt
down beside her friend, taking up her thin hand. It was clammy, and shook with
chills. Checking her pulse, it was rapid. Blinking, Ami brushed back the hair
from Kami's forehead, and placed a hand there.
She's burning up.
Kami's
breaths were short and sharp, and there was a scream from the medium. The goal
of the priest was to drive the demon out of Kami, and into the girl for
banishment.
She's not possessed, she's sick... But they don't realize
that. If her fever doesn't come down soon, she'll die.
Kami's
blood was filled with flames, her body's attempt to burn out the sickness
that had invaded in the damp, warm summer months when illness spread through
the lands like the plague it was. But now the heat was burning her from within,
and she was shaking and pale.
Gods, she's dehydrated! Why aren't they doing anything for her?
The wails of
the medium grew more insistent, and as the serving women waited, their anxiety
grew, filling the air with the sounds of groans and half-smothered screams. The
chant grew louder, as the priest called for the demon to abandon its host.
They don't understand!
Ami moved
away from Kami, and went to kneel before her father, who was watching distantly
through his own sick eyes. Pleading, she tried to catch his attention.
"She's sick! She needs water, and a doctor!" There was no
response, and Ami found herself screaming, hoping that maybe if her words were
loud enough, they would pierce whatever barrier stood between them. "Do
something! Get a doctor! A healer! Please!"
There was only stillness.
She spun away, running to the priest, trying to grab at his clothes to catch
his attention, but as he moved about the room, her hands fell into only empty
air, and grasped at nothing. The screams intensified from the medium, as the
demon began its transfer from one host to another.
Ami tried to slap Kami's face. "Wake up!" Kami merely stirred
in her deep sleep.
All this time, I thought it a monster. Unless this is the monster. None of
this makes sense. None of it. Why? Why am I here? Kami! Don't die! Please
don't die! If her fever does not break, she will die of it!
The screams
of the medium grew frenzied as she thrashed on the dais.
Cold.
From the
around the room, the walls shuddered as wind raced around them. In the wails of
the women, this set them to a greater pitch, frightened by the reaction of the
world outside.
Cold.
From within
her, Ami summoned the magic that she was given, the deep currents of water that
she claimed asher power. Kami's face was placed between her long hands,
Ami's fingertips on her temples.
Cold.
The evening
had taken upon itself a freezing wind, which whipped the clouds in the sky into
a frenzy. Black clouds, heavily laden with rain, came rolling out onto the
horizon, a whirlpool of mist in the sky. The terror of the sudden blackness and
wild weather swept the world around them into a state of shock, which was
shattered when the lightning in the sky came crashing down around them,
splitting the willow tree that graced the courtyard. Such a terrifying event
broke the ghastly stillness of the place, and men could be heard outside,
working their way to the flaming tree with buckets, hoping to douse the flames
before they set the mansion on fire.
Cold.
Into
Kami's blood flowed blue whitewater, cold and clear, pure energy. Though
the world around them had broken into a mad dance, the world within the walls
still existed in the exorcism, multiple keens screaming over and into the wind.
Cold!
The windows
were blown out, rains whipping into the room, soaking those who were within,
and with a gasp, Kami's eyes were flung open, rolling, as her lungs
gasped for air as there was a final scream. Then there was silence, and
Kami's body went limp in Ami's hands.
The sound of her scream was a spear of ice into the chill air, and she tumbled
from the warm safety of her bed. Eyes blinded to any light, she fumbled out of
habit for the door, wanting air, wanting space. Only a few steps into the
living room of her apartment, Ami collapsed onto the floor, and another pent up
scream escaped. Moments later, she heard the scurrying footsteps of her mother,
and a set of arms were wrapped with familiar ease around her shoulders.
Then she cried until her mother's sleeves were soaked with tears.
Ami didn't go to school that day.
There was too much grief, for the death of a girl she barely knew. A girl,
whose name she didn't even know, but who she felt was her sister. There
was no sleep for her then, and no way to escape what she feared.
She summoned me. And I failed her, as well. She summoned me, and I stupidly
thought it was a monster, some enemy to face. I let her die. I should have
looked for signs of disease, sickness, not monsters. Stupid! Stupid!
Can't I do anything right? I poured my energy into her, and I failed,
again and again. Stupid!
Her mother
had tried to call off work, but when Ami had feigned sleep, she had relented,
and had gone to help her patients. Ami had said nothing of her dreams, only
that they were nightmares that had seemed too real. She wasn't ready to
share it. She wouldn't speak of it again. Ever.
The looking glass in her room reflected a face that was tired and blotchy,
speckled from the tears that had welled up in her eyes. She sat before the
mirror, thinking maybe she could see something. See what, exactly, she
didn't know, and it didn't really matter. She would know when she
saw it. And still, she found nothing. Her head lowered as did her gaze, falling
to the small object that rested between her hands. The narrow henshin pen was
lengthwise from her, the star end of it pointed away. It was her Star Power
henshin pen, which she no longer needed. She had kept it, even though she now
had her Crystal, which was so much stronger. Ami blinked once, and picked it up, turning it over and watching it, almost as though it could give her an
answer.
I failed. Again and again, I fail. It's the little things. Not being a
second faster. Not being a little stronger. Push Usagi-chan out of the
way. Mamoru won't be there every time. He can't be. No one's
completely perfect. Pour energy into Kami. I don't know anything about
her. Did she pull me into the past? Does Pluto allow such things? Kami, who are
you and what did you want with me? I'm so sorry. I can't ever seem
to be what I need to be. Not to others, not to myself. I can't stop being
a senshi. My Mercury Crystal is in my heart, my soul. I cannot cut it
out. I don't want to. I want...I want what you wanted, Kami-chan. To live
above the clouds. Does that make me selfish? To wish to be a part of something
so important? To feel like I'm worth something?
Ami stood
up, the henshin pen still in her hands, and walked to the window. She opened
it, and pushed her head outside, feeling the salty sea breeze off the bay in
the distance, which sent her hair eddying around her face. She looked down. Her
apartment was several stories up, and the drop to the concrete was dizzying.
It would take only a moment, for the Silence to come.
Usagi and Minako came knocking on the door. Well, actually, they rang the
doorbell repeatedly, by pressing the button down until Ami was so irritated by
it that she finally roused herself out of her apathy, shut the window, stuffed
her feet into slippers, grabbed a robe and shuffled to the door. After the
nightmare of the night, she felt so empty she was hollow, as though every bit
of energy in her had been drained away, leaving only an empty shell. There was
no sleep, and she did not wish for it. It would have been simple, to have asked
her mother for some sleeping pills, which would create a nice, drugged stupor.
It's my own fault. My punishment for being such a coward as not to
finish things.
"Yes?"
Ami asked as she opened the door to see the two blondes. Expressions of worry
were written clearly across their faces.
"Ami-chan? Can we come in?" Usagi asked, her voice quiet for once.
They won't leave. What does it matter?
She silently
stood aside, and the pretty soldiers of love and justice filed into the room,
settling themselves on the couch, their identical uniforms and expressions
making them look more like twins than usual.
Minako spoke first. "Are you feeling okay? Mako-chan said she'll
cook you something if you're sick."
"I'm fine, Minako-chan. Just worn out."
They looked disbelieving.
"Rei-chan would have come, but she had to go help her grandfather,"
Usagi began, "and Mako-chan...she wanted to, but-"
"It's okay, Usagi-chan. You didn't need to come."
They looked at each other, and then at Ami. Their blue haired friend was
haggard, her hair messy, robe hanging over a rumpled nightgown. She was pale,
and her eyes were puffy and red.
"Ami-chan, you can tell us if there's something wrong," Minako told her, looking at Ami, who settled herself on a chair across from the
coffee table. "The five of us, six...ten," Minako looked a little
sheepish as she mentally tallied up the senshi of their solar system, Inners,
Outers, and those from the future. "...any of us. We've been
through so much together. You know we're here if you need-"
"I'm fine, Minako-chan. Really." They won't go away
until they have some explanation. "Last night, I was brought word that...an old friend of mine
just died."
The faces of the two other senshi altered subtly, and Ami knew that was the
explanation they wanted. Some reason to think that simple, reliable, brainy Ami
was missing school, a shocking thing for her.
"I didn't think you had any fr-" Usagi started, but was
slammed in the stomach by Minako before the whole sentence was finished.
"What she means is," Minako corrected Usagi, who was rubbing her
stomach and giving Minako a death glare. "We didn't know you were
really close to anyone other than we senshi..." Minako stumbled a little,
hesitating. "That didn't come out very well either. I mean, Usagi
has Luna, and Naru-chan too, not to mention Mamoru. I have Artemis, and-"
Ami was shaking her head, the waves of her hair falling against her cheeks.
"It's okay, Minako-chan, really. I understand."
I always understand, don't I?
"We're
just worried about you. What was her..." Usagi paused. "It was a
girl?"
Ami nodded.
"What was her name?"
"I called her Kami."
Usagi got up and gave Ami a hug. "We'll come to the funeral with
you. Okay?"
"There is no funeral."
They blinked at her.
"No funeral?" Minako looked confused, then her face softened with
pity. "You got word too late?"
Ami just clutched the folds of her robe in her hands, her knuckles turning
white as she rolled the fabric in her hands, letting Minako think what she
wanted.
Minako and Usagi stayed a bit longer, trying to cheer Ami up. And as it was
with the two girls, their happy talking about their lives eventually got Ami to
smile, especially when Minako tried to tell Ami that life was like a box of
kleenex, and she didn't know what she was going to get. Though that time,
Ami suspected that Minako did it on purpose, getting the saying wrong, just so
Ami could correct her. When they left, Ami felt a little better. She had also noticed,
that despite the wrapping on Usagi's wrist, the black eye was now nothing
more than a memory, healing swiftly.
And since she was feeling better, Ami tried to read, settling herself down on
the couch, 'The Tale of Genji' in her lap, the stained glass reading lamp
casting a mosaic of pretty colors onto the walls. And as it was when a
sleep-deprived person tries to read in a quiet home, her eyes closed, and the
mosaic became a living waltz of light....
The room was bare of any furnishing, save a single pillow, where a woman sat in
a square of brightness, her hair shorn at the ends, cutting off just at the
shoulder. Still, her robes were colored, not yet the ash grey clothing of one
who has taken the vows of a nun, though she sat slumped and seemed sad. The
woman's back was turned, and with a distant feeling, Ami reached out her
hand, placing it on the woman's shoulder, looking down. The head
turned,and blind eyes looked up to meet hers, the lavender faded, replaced with
a hazy white.
"Kanashimi-chan?"
Then the mosaic of light that had brought her there enveloped her again, and
her eyes opened to see the furrowed brows of her mother.
"Ami-chan?" Dr. Mizuno asked, when her daughter grabbed her arms in
shock, a timid look of hope beginning to spread on her face.
She's not dead.
Eluding her,
sleep hovered on the peripherals of her vision, cruelly teasing. If she turned
her head quickly enough, sometimes she believed that she could see the glitters
of light that came with the transition to Kami's world. I still have a
chance. She's not dead. But a chance to do what? If she's well,
then everything's solved. It was so selfish of me, to think that I could
do this alone. But I still feel like there is something that I am missing. If
Kami is well, then is everything all right? Am I just deluding myself?
From outside
her room, the moon glowed, a tiny sliver of new birth in the cloak of the
night. It was a delicate slipper, with the grace of a ballet dancer's
pointed toe. And in the quiet, dim light of the moon, a sakura petal floated past her
window, followed by another, and another. And it seemed to her that a person
ghosted on the currents of wind, slipping into the shadows of her room and
moving through the shades that the dresser, bookcase, or desk cast. And the
figure approached, unseen, since the soldier of water had closed her eyes at
last, and had drifted into the haze of sleep.
She floated wide in the space, the layers of Whitewater drifting loosely around her,
as the stars strained in their brightness.
Where am I? What place is this?
Laughter
turned her head, and she saw Kami, standing beside her, though in her room,
existing in the shadows. "You wonder far too much, Kanashimi-chan. Come,
it's time you see my sadness, and why I fear for your sorrows." She
extended her pale hand, and Ami took it, finding herself suddenly alone in the
darkness of a moonless night.
There was rain, and much of it. It pounded down on her head and shoulders, the
skies letting loose their pent up tears, letting the earth soak up what the
clouds could no longer hold. Ami hugged herself, for the water was cold, and it
bled through her the layered robes she wore. Dark blue hair ran slick black as
she tried to see through flashes of lightning what Kami had brought her to see.
Her teeth began to chatter with cold, and she heard the rushing of water. She
turned slightly, but froze as her foot began to slide. She stood on rock, and
it was slick with the rainwater that was pounding down. She withdrew a step,
for the river below rushed high.
"Look there," Kami whispered, pointing, and Ami was at first
startled to see the girl there with her. But she followed the length of arm,
looking up to the mansion. "See?"
As it is in dreams, nothing seemed to be as it was. With unreal clarity, Ami
witnessed Kami, her eyes sightless, crawl uneasily along the floor of her room,
slide open the shoji door, and shut it again as the rain masked her sounds. In
the wind, the sound of a furin could be heard, ringing, the one that hung by Kami's door.
Her shorn hair pasted itself to her head, and dripped down as she wobbled to
her feet, took several steps, then careened off the path. Ami started forward,
wishing to rush to help her, but the Kami that stood with her took her wrist,
preventing it.
Ami looked at the one who held her and, and despite her own chill and wet, Kami
remained dry, her long hair uncut, hanging around her feet in a black sweep of
waves, the loops still behind her head. She still wore Chrysanthemum Rain, and her eyes were still pale
lavender.
A thought occurred to Ami.
No.
As the Kami
who was blind stumbled her way down the path, Ami felt herself drawing away
from the one she stood beside. Kami's desperate stumbling run would have
been comical to one with a twisted sense of humor. The blind girl continued to
trip her way along, falling and muddying herself in the thickening dirt,
grasses clinging to her robes as she felt her way forward, a hand out for
balance and warning. Ami knew she was crying.
Someday, she wished to live above the clouds.
Again, Kami
fell, this time hitting a rock, and laying still for a moment before she
brought herself to her knees. She felt her way up again, and she desperately
worked her way along the narrow path that she and Ami had traveled only a dream
or two before.
I do not know what illness struck her, but it left her without vision, both
sight and dream.
It was a path Kami knew well, and she had always believed she could walk it
blindfolded, for it led to her favorite place by the willow over the river. The
river that was rising in the rain, and she now did walk it blindly, though
without anything covering her eyes.
How can one who cannot see live among the clouds?
Kami at last
grasped a low branch of the willow tree, her small fingers clasping tightly
around it.
Without sight, how can she play the koto?
Kami
appeared to be looking at the river that was sweeping its way towards her, and
she dropped to her knees, edging closer to the steep bank that drew closer to
its edge. She knelt on the rock now.
Without sight, how can she paint the lovely letters of poetry?
She placed a
hand into the water, and the icy roaring waters stung it, forcing her to snap
it back as her skin was bitten.
Without any of these things, how can she live?
Kami
staggered to her feet, holding Chrysanthemum Rain tightly about her. She tilted
her head up to face the sky, and for a moment there was lightning, illuminating
the earth around them. And when a second strike broke down across the river,
its thunder drumming in Ami's ears, Kami stood no longer on the
riverbank.
Her vision was filled with blackness, and as she tried to reach out, she felt
her nails scrape along the rocks that surrounded her. Sight was gone, but other
senses were sharpened, the screams of the river drowned her ears in chaos, and
pain broke her body as it crashed between the stones, tangling in the weeds.
Though she tried, Ami could not breathe, and her lungs filled with water,
smothering her even as Kami was smothered.
Kami, I think I understand now.
The roaring
of the waters covered her.
You gave up.
She felt her
body being carried more quietly along, tumbling slowly in the water.
You gave up, and you're showing me why. You were never haunted by a
ghost. You were never in danger of anything. It was me. All this time, it was
me. I wanted to protect you. But in reality, you are protecting me. From
myself, isn't it?
She came to
a drifting stop in the water, and Ami felt herself tangled in the reeds, her
hair floating in a halo about her head. And at the same time, she was Kami, her
hair long and entwined in the broken reeds, lying in the congestion that the
river had deposited downstream, her body broken and tangled, her eyes closed
even though she still saw.
How long ago this happened to you, Kami-chan. How long have you waited for
me, or someone like me? I can feel hands now. They found you, didn't
they, Kami? Found you and took you back, buried you and gave you a funeral. I
can see them, a fisherman, looking to earn his bread, shouting up at others.
They lifted you out of the water. You look like a child, Kami-chan, so doll
like, since you are so delicate.
Air returned
to her, and Ami breathed again.
They sat, much as they did when they met, under the willow tree, in a surreal
brightness. Though this tree was a mountain cherry, and its blossoms white and
falling. Water dribbled over the stones in the river, calm and restful,
peaceful rather than wrathful. Ami looked at the brush she held in her hand,
and then took up a piece of paper while Kami picked up her inkstone, rolling
it. She smiled at Ami, and shook her head. "You look as though you are
unsure if you dream or not, Kanashimi-chan."
"This is still a dream."
Kami laughed. "Yes, I suppose, though this is where I exist now."
"Can you move into others dreams? Like mine?"
Kami paused, uncertain, and loaded her brush with ink, gently tracing the
characters of kanji onto the reused paper. "I don't know."
Ami looked at Kami, and truly wanted to know.
"Why?"
"The most dangerous demons are the ones we create for ourselves. They
cannot be fought with weapons, magical or technical. They must be fought in
other ways. There are so many dark dreams, in this time."
Ami set down her brush, and looked at the calligraphy Kami had painted on her
paper. "It's lovely, Kami-chan."
"Arigatou, Kanashimi-chan. Though I hope I will not have to call you that
anymore."
"I don't think you will, but I think it would be wrong if you
didn't."
"You will live above the clouds for me? Record all the beautiful things
you see? I never did get to see any of it. I would like to know what a crystal
palace would look like." She painted another stroke on the paper, and the
sakura from above obscured it with a petal. They fell from above, and the sunlight
streamed through the branches overhead, causing Ami to lift a hand over her
eyes to dim the brightness of the world.
"Ja ne, Kami-chan," Ami told her, and Kami smiled as Ami's
eyes opened to the dawn of a new day, and this time, the girl who dreamed did
not bury her face.