Author's Notes: See chapter one for disclaimer and explanation. I've gone back and changed some of the spellings, as well as corrected conventions errors, and then reposted all twenty-seven chapters, as well as all my other fanfics. It's one of the reasons I haven't updated in so long. Gomen ne, minna… -_-
Love, Life, and Death By Annie-chan Chapter Twenty-Eight: StillbirthHôjun said nothing more about Kôran, and he seemed to be avoiding their eyes. Tasuki cast another worried glance to Kôji, a question in his eyes. Kôji was better at reading people's moods and actions than Tasuki. Unfortunately, to the bandit leader's dismay, Kôji only closed his eyes and shook his head minutely. He was no more aware of what was going on than his fiery-haired companion. Tasuki returned his gaze to his teacup. Hôjun was usually the most composed and unruffled of all the Seishi. Seeing his fellow warrior in emotional disarray, no matter how suppressed, made him nervous, sometimes downright scared.
Three-year-old Hana latched her small hands onto her father's sleeve and began pulling toward the direction of the hallway. "I wanna see Kâsan," the little girl piped. Even she, a free-spirited and energetic toddler, looked downcast. Tasuki's stomach clenched. This was not good.
"Kâsan is sleeping right now, Hana-chan," Hôjun replied, not looking at his daughter. His voice was strained slightly on the word "sleeping." It was as if he was terrified she would never wake up again.
"I wanna see Kâsan! I wanna see Kâsan! I wanna see Kâsan!" the little girl squealed, pulling harder on his sleeve, jumping up and down as she did. Her face was scrunching up, as if she was about to cry.
"Hana-chan, no. I said—"
"I wanna see Kâsan!" Hana wailed.
Hôjun's face immediately went from barely restrained tension to sudden anger. His worn-thin patience had run out.
"Shut up!" he roared, and, without even thinking it seemed, he struck out and slapped his youngest daughter across the face with a loud smack.
Hana immediately dissolved into loud crying, fat tears streaming down her round little cheeks, her fists up to her eyes, her face twisted in a heart-wrenching mask of fear, pain, and want for comfort. Tori and Seiryoku had backed off from both their father and their sister. They seemed to want to console Hana in some way, but were afraid of what their father may do. He hardly ever struck one of them out of anger, and never, never this hard. Even when punishing them for one reason or another, he kept from hurting them more than what was necessary. An angry red mark sprawled across Hana's left cheek. He had never left marks like that before.
Tasuki and Kôji looked at each other again. Neither had expected this to happen, and both were at a loss for words. They looked back at Hôjun and saw he had his head in his hands, propped up with his elbows on the table. His fingers were fisted in his hair. If one looked close enough, one would see he was shaking slightly as he tried to reign in his sudden surge of anger.
"Go…gomen nasai, Hana-chan," he murmured when he looked up again. Tears were brimming in his eyes, but he held them back. He picked his daughter up and held her to him, attempting to soothe her cries. "I'm so sorry…I'll never do that again…" Hana's arms were wrapped tightly around his neck as she cried on his shoulder.
She began quieting down after a minute or so, and things seemed to be going back to where they were…until…
"Nya! Nyaaaaaaaaaa!"
Tama-neko was running out of Hôjun and Kôran's bedroom, straight towards Hôjun. It grabbed his sleeve in its teeth and began tugging in the direction it had come from.
"Tama…?" Hôjun asked, setting his daughter down. "Is something—"
Before he could ask his question, a high, shrill scream suddenly came from the room his wife lay in. It was a scream of terrible pain.
"Gods!" Hôjun cried as he leapt to his feet. "Suzaku! Oh, please, don't let her die!" He bolted through the door leading to his wife, a look of utter terror on his face.
Tasuki and Kôji jumped to their feet as well when they heard the scream, but before they could even turn in the direction of the room, Hôjun had already gone through the door. When they pulled the door open and looked into the room, their faces dissolved into looks of shock and horror.
Hôjun was clutching his wife's hand in one of his, the other stroking her hair in a surely futile attempt to calm her down. She was obviously suffering from a high fever, and she looked to be about six months pregnant.
"Oh…gods…" Kôji muttered, turning away. Tasuki couldn't look away. This was what had Hôjun so upset. He not only had his wife to worry over, but his unborn child as well.
"…Hôjun…the baby…too early…" Kôran moaned, her skin covered with a thick sheen of sweat, both from the fever and the suddenly occurring labor pains. "Suzaku…too early…too early…"
"Medic!" Hôjun barked in Tasuki's direction. Kôji immediately ran out the front door, looking for someone, anyone, who could save the lives at stake.
Tasuki started after him two seconds after Kôji left.
"No! Tasuki! I need your help right here!" he pleaded. Tasuki looked at his face and blanched. He was sure he had never seen Hôjun looking so terror-stricken before.
"What do you need?" Tasuki asked hesitantly. He had absolutely no experience in birthing babies.
"Please…take my children into their room…try to keep the calm and happy for the time being…I don't want them seeing their mother so pained like this." His voice was as if he was about to burst into tears any second.
"Uh…yeah…sure…" Tasuki replied. As he left the room, he had a dreadful feeling that at least one life would be lost in this house today.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hôjun's eyes were wide as he stared down at his wife. She was exhausted to within an inch of her life, and she had dropped off into a deep sleep the minute it was over. He was deathly afraid it would be her last sleep. He had already lost so much today…he couldn't bear to lose her as well.
Kangofu, one of the town medics, finished wrapping the child in a cloth, and wordlessly handed it to Hôjun when he stretched out his arms for it, a pleading look on his face. She left, not wanted to disturb him in his grief.
Hôjun's heart broke as he stared into the motionless, gray face of his newly-born and newly-dead daughter. He clutched the tiny, cooling body to his chest. She had come too early, with no chance of survival. She had been dead by the time she was born.
His tears, heretofore unshed, burst forth in a helpless scream, which soon melted into heartbroken weeping, his entire body shuddering with his sobs. "Oh, my baby…my baby! Noooooooooooooooo!"
Tasuki turned away and quietly shut the door, letting his friend mourn in peace. He turned toward Kôji, who had Tori, Seiryoku, and Hana gathered around his legs. Kôji quickly lowered his eyes and looked away at the look on Tasuki's face.
"Your father needs to be alone right now," Tasuki said, the words coming out in a hoarse whisper. "It's late. You three should go to bed."
The three children looked both disappointed and apprehensive. They had heard their father's crying, and child's curiosity coupled with the love they held for the man currently wailing in devastation on the other side of the door had made them want to rush in there and see what was wrong. However, they caught sight of the look in Tasuki's amber eyes, and went into their room without a fuss.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The funeral was held the next day. The little girl, named Kojika by her father, was buried next to a grave marked "Ri Hanabira." The daughter who never met her sisters and brother was laid to rest next to the sister who never met her nieces and nephew. The pain at losing another dear relative was as sharp to Hôjun as the first time it had happened. He took one look at his sister's grave and the newly-dug grave for his daughter next to it, and he fell to his knees in the grass, silent tears coursing down his cheeks. Tasuki had put his arms around his ailing friend, and was now whispering reassurances as best he could as the tiny casket was lowered into the earth. Hôjun seemed to take no notice.
Kôran was in bed at home, too weakened by the lingering fever and the recent difficult birth to get up, with her three living children with her. Kôji was keeping and eye on all of them while Tasuki accompanied Hôjun to the burial.
When Kôran had first woken up that morning, she saw her husband kneeling next to the bed, clasping one of her hands in his, his head bowed. He had looked up at her when she tried to say something. All that had come out was incoherent syllables, for she was still extremely weak from the night before. Hôjun's eyes had closed, his face greatly pained. He said one word: "Dead."
Since then, and perhaps still now, for all Hôjun knew, Kôran had been staring up at the ceiling above their bed, her face perfectly blank. The only thing indicating any emotion was the steady stream of tears sliding from her eyes.
Hôjun bowed his head, his loose hair falling over his face, as the gravedigger began covering the tiny little box that held the baby with earth. The other people at the funeral were quietly leaving, a solemn air permeating everything. Hôjun was a well-loved member of the community, and his loss was felt by everyone.
"Chichiri," Tasuki said gently. He pulled Hôjun to his feet, his arm still around his shoulders to keep him steady. "Come on…your wife needs you right now."
"Nn," Hôjun grunted softly. He let himself be led back to his home, hardly paying attention to where his feet fell. Suzaku-seikun, he mentally prayed. God of Love and Sorrow…take her into your keeping…please, I'm begging you…
His mind went blank again as he passed the threshold of his house and immediately went into the bedroom to be near his wife.
Kneeling by the grave, unseen by mortal eyes, a tall man dressed all in red with hair and wings to match, wept silently, cradling the stillborn's soul to his chest. It wasn't her time to die…she hadn't even a chance to live!
Hôjun's desperate prayer echoed in his mind a few minutes later, and he stood up, holding the soul softly. "Do not worry, my most faithful warrior. You're prayer is granted." With that, Suzaku spread his wings and disappeared from the Material Plane.
To be continued…Author's Notes: Yes, I know. How could I kill an innocent baby? The answer is that, in the past, stillbirths were much more common than they are today, and I wouldn't be surprised if a good percentage of woman had at least one stillbirth or miscarriage in their life. Yes, it's sad, but death is a fact of life, and no one can escape that fact, no matter how young or innocent. Did I write this chapter well? I so hope I did. Let me know either in a review or at mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!