She rose to meet the rays
of sunshine that snuck through the crack of the sliding door. She then dressed in her practice outfit and
let out a long sigh.
'I
don't know how that lady knew. It's as
if she's known how I've felt for a long time. But, regardless… '
She
stepped out of her room and woke the boy a few doors down. On the way to the dojo, she encountered the
cross-scarred man beaming softly at her.
"Good
morning, Kaoru-dono. Breakfast will be
ready soon. Is Yahiko awake?"
She
nodded, still preoccupied with previous thoughts of the fortuneteller.
'You can do something about it.' What was she supposed to do?
It
had been a chronic feeling inside her, this wishing for advances from the
redhead standing before him, now chopping vegetables for the soup. It was a well-known fact everyone knew that
she had a special affection towards this man; in her gut she knew that he also
knew but never acknowledged it. The
proprietor of the Akabeko restaurant had encouraged both of them time and again,
setting up sly schemes to get them alone together. And during each time of togetherness, the coy samurai would break
the warm mood by commenting on how full the moon was, how beautiful the sakura
trees are, or how the breeze feels good to the skin. It was as if he didn't want to feel awkward, putting on his
friendly air that seemed too great of a wall for either of them to climb. It seemed like she waited for years for him
to do something about their situation; her silent request was comparable to dry
grassland waiting for rain to come.
Her
constant scrutiny brought her to a brow-furrowing thought: that perhaps there was something about her
that prompted the redhead to keep his distance from her. And from here a wave full of reasons why
this could be so came surging down from her mind and went crashing into her
insides: her insecurities, her violent
tendencies, her tomboyish skills, and her inability to prepare edible food.
She
looked guiltily at the gentle man as he handed her a bowl of miso soup. He caught this gaze in the corner of his
eye, wondering what the lovely woman before him was thinking. He met her eyes with a smile and said,
"Let's eat. I hope it's good."
To
her, it was always good. Far better
than hers. And at this realization she
nearly choked on her food.
"Are
you all right, Kaoru-dono?" he asked, putting his chopsticks down.
"Yes,
I'm fine. Ah, I'd better start practice
with Yahiko. Thank you for making
breakfast." She hurriedly finished her
food and got up. Before she vanished
out of sight, she turned and said, "Kenshin, I'll be teaching at two other
dojos today, and a private lesson at the Yamazakis'. I won't make it for lunch, but I'll be back before dinnertime. I'll be in the dojo for now if you need
me." And she was gone.
The
red-haired man blinked twice, a bit startled and concerned at her peculiar
demeanor. 'I wonder what she's
thinking . . .'
---XoOoX---
She worked very hard that
day, wearing the boy Yahiko out when they sparred; the students at the other
dojos just as panted like little puppies after a long run. All her energy stemmed from a newly awakened
frustration inside her.
'I
know I'm not perfect, this is the way I am . . .'
On
the way to the Yamazaki estate, she stopped and sat under a tree, opening her
takeout lunch box she had bought at the Akabeko restaurant. Money had flowed steadily in her income for
some time now, and it was good to have many students again.
And
so she sat and ate in silence.
"Very
good, Shintaro. Remember to keep your
feet well distanced to keep your balance. Now with the same form, do 100 strokes."
"Yes,
sensei."
The
boy did as she said and diligently followed her advice. Impressed at his obedience as well as his
form, Kaoru proudly gazed at her pupil.
"Kaoru-chan,
come rest a while beside 'Baachan."
She
turned to see an old woman sitting on a bench by the koi pond, motioning with
her arthritic hand. She gladly
obliged. The old woman handed her a cup
of cool water.
They
watched the young boy do his exercises, his voiced counts and the sound of
cicadas mingling in the air.
"My,
Shintaro is growing so fast. You are a
very good teacher, Kaoru-chan. He's
much more disciplined than before."
She
smiled. "All the credit goes to him,
really. It's up to him to improve."
The
old woman chuckled. She turned her eyes
to Kaoru to find her staring off into the distance.
"You're
very far away, my dear. Only old people
travel with thoughts like that."
Embarrassed,
she let out a soft giggle. "I'm sorry,
Obaasan, I've been thinking a lot lately."
"Hmm? Care to tell 'Baachan?"
"Oh,
I shouldn't bother anyone with it…"
"Kaoru-chan,
you are far too young to ruminate on your thoughts and turn your hair
white." The old woman shifted closer to
her and put her warm hand over hers. "Even birds sing when they're sorrowful."
Touched
by the old woman's compassion, she didn't think it would do any harm to tell
her the tireless thoughts running in her mind, no matter how silly it may seem
to her. And so she told the old woman
of what the fortuneteller said, of what she didn't understand in the
fortuneteller's last words, and she didn't know how to begin even if there was
something to be done about it. All the
while the old lady listened keenly, nodding occasionally. The grandmother's bright old eyes grew wide
at the hot splashing sensation on her fingers.
"Oh, now, now, Kaoru-chan, don't cry," she pleaded,
reaching into her obi and producing a handkerchief, and handed it to her.
"I'm
sorry, Obaasan . . . it's just, I've been alone all my life and I don't know
how to help myself with this." She
wiped the remainder of her tears with the handkerchief.
"Kaoru-chan,
don't be sad. By realizing the
magnitude of your problem, you've already solved it halfway." The old woman motioned her to look at the
jasmine flowers that blossomed by the pond. "Perhaps this flower plant may know how you feel. Day by day they grace their surroundings
with their beauty and lovely scent, and they are taken for granted. It seems like no one truly appreciates
them."
"But
you do, Obaasan."
"Yes,
indeed. But that is not the point. These lovely flowers keep on growing,
regardless of who admires them. How
they got to be so beautiful or so fragrant, no one will ever know. There may have been a time when this whole
plant did not produce such delightful flowers at all. However, time changes everything. Why do you think this plant produces these flowers?" the old
woman asked her as she plucked a couple of them and dropped them into Kaoru's
palm.
"Because
it needs attention?" she uttered, thinking the old woman was alluding to her.
"No,
my dear, because it can. This
plant is how it is now because it was able to change with time. The changes are not abrupt, but subtle, each
change revealing a facet of its true forms now, ornate and balanced. It is true that these flowers attract the
attention of bees and humans alike, but regardless of who they aim to attract,
you must realize that they attract because they have the ability to do so."
"So
how do I change? I mean, I'm not
exactly beautiful enough ---"
"This
is your first mistake," she interrupted. "I am sure that even the plant didn't ask itself the limits of its
potential. My dear, you must first convince
yourself that you can be beautiful. And to tell the truth," she said as she held out her old fingers to lift
Kaoru's chin up, "you need not worry too much of the beauty you possess
outside."
Grandmother
Yamazaki retrieved her hand. She leaned
backwards on the bench and looked upon her grandson, cutting the cool breeze
with his bamboo sword.
"Kaoru-chan,
you have already proved yourself to be a strong and independent young
woman. You are rare and precious."
A
gust of cool breeze blew past them, Kaoru's hair dancing in the wind.
"Perhaps
you've forgotten? Or maybe you don't
realize it just yet. This plant
probably didn't, either, but it came to be just the same. But unlike this plant, you have an
advantage."
"And
what is that, Obaasan?"
"Out
of the many eyes you catch gazing at you, you have the ability to choose who
you return your gaze to and with who to interact. In other words, you can pick the one who will take care of you
the most."
"But
Obaasan, I've already chosen somebody, but I don't think he wants to be
chosen."
Silence.
"If
you already think this, then you are probably right."
The
old lady traced an imaginary curve on the ground. She was not going to leave the girl dejected.
"And
yet, flowers continue to bloom, because others will come to cherish and admire
them for what they are."
Kaoru
fell silent once again. Such a simple
analogy gave her so much insight. With
age comes wisdom, and it flowed naturally from the old woman's lips. She has never had her circumstances put that
way for her, and the sage old woman had set her cards on a table for her to see
more clearly.
"Perhaps
'Baachan can help you bring up your self-esteem again. You said you had these 'weaknesses' . . . "
Kaoru
laughed and cried inside her at the same time. She now understood how her circumstances were, and to act on them seemed
an insurmountable task.
"To
begin with, Obaasan, I'm not a very good cook."
The
old woman sat up and clapped her hands. "My dear, consider this weakness strengthened." She stood up and took Kaoru's hand. "I come from a family of chefs, and the
Yamazaki wealth comes from the chain of hotels and restaurants we own. Shall I teach you?"
An
appalled Kaoru could only nod.
"How
about it, Kaoru-chan? You learn how to
cook from me, and you promise me the first daughter you have will be Shintaro's
bride. Sound fair?"
"But
that's for the children to decide!"
"If
it doesn't work out, then you can say that you tried at the least. All you have to do is encourage them."
"Why?"
"Because,"
the old woman grinned, "beauty of yours is a wonderful asset to have in the
family."
Kaoru
laughed. "Shintaro's barely six years
old."
"That
little bee won't be blind when he becomes a man. Shall we go to the kitchen?"
"All
right." And so they disappeared into
the grand Yamazaki estate.
She
was quick to learn. Grandmother
Yamazaki was very precise and patient, allowing the girl to follow her
preparations and motions. Kaoru noticed
that they always tasted the food after an ingredient was added. The old woman taught her to gauge the amount
of spices to add in and how long to keep the fire on by taste. In almost no time, Kaoru had produced
something she thought could never happen: delicious, palate-wetting food.
"There. You did it, Kaoru-chan. Now you have a wonderful dinner."
"A
wonderful dinner, "she repeated, the ladle still in her hand. "Ah, dinner!"
She
put the ladle down in haste and bowed humbly before the smiling
grandmother. "Thank you so much for
everything, Obaasan. I am so
grateful. But I'm late for dinner, I
must go!" And at this, she turned and
ran.
As
she ran through the gate, the old lady shouted. "Call me 'Baachan!" She
quietly chuckled as she turned back to the kitchen.
The
dojo was only several blocks away. As
she ran, the old lady's words rang clear like pebbles hitting the bottom of a
metal bucket.
'You are rare and
precious.'
She
smiled at this thought as she approached the gate to her home.