Tomoe watched the candle flicker and the light dim for a second on her sleeping brother's features. His nose wrinkled in irritation as he mumbled a few inaudible and equally as incoherent words before returning to the blissful slumber he was accustomed to. It was like clockwork for her to loom over this boy in his sleep. It became so habitual that she found it hard to part with him especially when he was so peaceful in the appearance of the candlelight.
**
"'nee-san!"
Footsteps sounded thud-by-thud and Tomoe sat up in panic. She wiped the night's perspiration from her forehead with her sleeve as her breath sped up.
"Enishi..." she breathed desperately and quickly shoved herself up from the ground, practically falling on to her door frame on her way up.
"'nee-san!"
Her heart wrenched at the disparity of his voice. It was so weak, so desperate. She swung open the shoji and ran as fast as her feet could take her to his room. She swung open the door and she collided with her younger sibling. His hands fisted up and entrenched themselves in the wrinkles of her robe. She held him tightly to her with her eyes wide open. It was then that she felt his warm tears upon her robe. What had he dreamt about?
"Enishi..." she cooed to soothe him as she stroked his hair, combing it back.
"Don't leave me..." he murmured everso softly through sobs.
"What?"
"You left me! Just like mom and dad did! You left me!"
"Enishi!" she breathed in shock.
"You left me!" he said as he clutched onto her tighter.
This was Enishi's first emotional outburst. He was only a child of three and a half, and he was already having nightmares. She cradled his head to her and her other hand rested nurturing-like on his back. The soft chirps of the crickets outside filtered into the dim room as he sobbed. It was so cold.
"Enishi..." her palm rested upon his cheek and his eyes opened, "Stop crying."
Her voice was so void of emotions as if she were talking to any Edo citizen. It was so divergent of her.
"You must not cry. I shall stay until you sleep."
He was so quiet as she released him from her embrace and her hand fell from his cheek. He placed his fingers to touch the place she previously touched, the tingle of her words and actions still there with him. She got up, closing the door behind her, and lit a candle. As she bent over to prepare his bed again, his eyes drifted to a close.
"I don't have a memory of her. All the children talk of their parents. What do I have?" he muttered.
"You're only a child. You shouldn't speak of such trivial things." Tomoe spoke.
His gaze went to his sister. She was dedicated to fixing out the wrinkles and kinks of the night's disturbance.
"'nee-san."
She didn't answer as she stood up, moving to a chest across the room. She opened the lift everso carefully and pulled out a soft blanket folded neatly.
"Does father love us?" he asked coldly-too cold for a boy his age.
That was the first sign of his change of attitude. His mind began to change from that night on. Tomoe could sense it in every tense second she spent with him. She shut the chest softly and kneeled before his futon.
"Come, Enishi. It's time for bed." she said softly.
He crawled over to her and wriggled his way under the covers. She placed the extra blanket over him and tucked him in. He turned on his side, his back facing her. As the wind began to pick up outside, she heard something so inaudible that she took it as a figment of her imagination. It sounded like a wisp of a whisper caught on the breeze. It was just so faint, yet the words were so clear.
"I love you..."
- A Moment's Memory -
Act VIII: Labyrinth of the Forgotten
"Akira-nii-san!"
"Kiyosato-san!"
The children chorused in laughter and delightful shouts as they tugged everywhich way on him. He lifted three small children on his back with a bouncing motion, emitting a pleased squeal from them. He laughed with them as the children begged and pleaded for him to play with them, too. From across the street, Enishi watched the other children. It made him sick. They were attracted to that man like moths to a flame, excusing the cliché of a phrase. But the truth of it sickened him. They liked him like his sister did. He got all the attention and adoration of them all. Why?
He snuffed at their cries of joy when he turned to see Tomoe crouched before her laundry. She, too, was staring at Kiyosato. Another sick feeling washed over his stomach and he felt his heart lurch as she smiled for the scene. She smiled for him. Her smiles were so rare around the house. But when she was around him, or even thinking of the man known as Kiyosato Akira, her smiles were there just as sure as a new day would dawn. He brushed off her as well as he went down the street. He would find something to do on this boring day. Why did he need the comfort of being wanted by those foolish children?
*** *** ***
"Oh no...it's raining again." Tomoe murmured as she leaned against the door frame.
"Well, it is spring." her father said with a chuckle, tipping the small cup to his lips.
He put the cup down and looked at the flowers on the table. They were so nicely arranged. It was definitely Tomoe's work. She was just like her mother, so graceful, so lady-like.That was his Midori. His eyes traced over his daughter. Her placid expression against the backdrop of the gloomy sky and the falling rain just fit her then. For a moment, he saw her mother in her place. Her hair was tucked away, but the hair still fell into it's layered style. It made his stomach churn at that moment. He was thinking about his wife again. Who knew that an arranged marriage could bring so much joy yet so much heartache. He only wished when his daughter had her union, she would not have the same loss as he. He wanted a man who was a good provider, yet a loving husband and father. He wanted his new son-in-law to be more than he was. Tomoe deserved it.
"'tou-san..."
He looked up from his downward gaze and grunted a bit to acknowledge that he heard her.
"Enishi's birthday is coming soon."
"Aa."
"I hope the rain doesn't ruin it."
"The rain will be long gone, Tomoe. I doubt it will be ruined."
"'tou-san..."
"Hm...?"
"Mother died that day."
"Aa."
"What will you do then?"
He was silent and stood up. He exited the room with only the sound of his clothes rustling as he walked. He stopped behind her and attempted to put a hand on her shoulder. But the thought faded away. He was so scared of such comfort. It wasn't what he usually did. He would leave her to cope alone usually or be away at work.
My father is so cold even at a time such as this. He hides his fear and pain with a smile. Why can't he understand that as his daughter and a relative of Yukishiro Midori, I, too, feel it? Why is he so afraid of me? I know he wants to be a family, but I fear he feels it's too late. He feels that he can't compensate for lost time. 'tou-san...
She stayed still as he brushed past her and walked into his room.
"'tou-san..." she whimpered and slid down to the floor.
Hideo was still at his door listening to his daughter. His eyes were so lifeless yet the glimmer of sadness was evident. He had caused her to put herself at fault again. He closed his eyes tightly. Why couldn't he do anything right?
*** *** ***
The shoji slid open and thick-covered feet were planted firmly upon the Yukishiro porch. The rain's down pour rung in her ears as she stood to the door. Tomoe was surprised by the vulnerability apparent in the visitor's face.
"Akira...is missing..." Etoro said in between pants.
Her heart skipped a beat and she placed a hand to her chest in attempt to calm it.
Kiyosato...
***
Tomoe's hair was slightly coming undone from her braid as she ran through the muddy streets of Edo. Wild tendrils of hair fluttered behind her under the dry safety of the dark violet umbrella. Her white kimono was dirty on the bottom and, her feet were soaking wet. But Tomoe's fears kept running through her mind. She couldn't bear to lose one of the most important people to her, though she could never admit to it. This was a moment that defined what she felt. It was something she couldn't deny. Maybe, in fact, she cared for him more than she'd like to say.
*** *** ***
Enishi looked at the flower arrangement on the dining table from across the room. His eyes flickered for a minute to the door. He couldn't stand rain. It was so noisy, and it made everyone miserable. It wasn't like snow, something he embraced even as a child. It was so soft, silent, and cold. It reminded him of his mother. The only memory he had of her was his feelings of what she was like. He could imagine her a very polite and perfect woman of Japanese society, yet when he heard the word 'mother', all he could think of was the cold.
He stared again at the door and combed a hand through his unruly ebony tresses. With a sigh of impatience, he leaned his head back against the wall.
"Kiyosato..." he murmured as if it were a foreign word he had never heard of.
The flower arrangement's origin came into his mind. Kiyosato had come in the previous day with flowers. His sister showed not a sign of appeasement to what he had done, but Enishi had caught it. He saw the warmth glimmer in her eyes for a brief second and a faint smile graced her lips. She didn't know, but he knew all too well of who his sister felt. He had lived long enough with her to know what she was trying to hide. He heard and saw her so many times when she thought he wasn't looking. His heart panged to see some of the pain he saw. Only Kiyosato had made her smile and kept her from what Enishi was most afraid of. He was afraid to lose her, whether to her desparate desire or another's.
Enishi eyed the one flower he hated that he brought to her. It was from their outing the previous day with Kiyosato. He found one of the white plum petals and pressed it into the palm of her hand. He told her of how much it reminded him of her and that she was so unique to have such a scent. Enishi abhorred it so. It was then that he saw Tomoe smile again. One of those angelic smiles he rarely saw. But what really bugged him was their contact. Their eyes were caught up in one another's. Their fingers barely touching after his flattering comment. It made him sick to his stomach, but he held it in as the thunder sounded in the sky. It was the rain that stopped, but came back that day.
Where was Kiyosato...?
*** *** ***
Hideo arrived home to see that Tomoe's presence was no longer there. He only found his son lying on his side, up against the room's wall, asleep. In his hand was the white plum flower, crumpled and almost dried out. The white plum flower was so distinct to him.
***
"You know that I will support you in what ever you do. I never denied you that." Midori's voice said softly.
The rain outside poured down as they sat out on the porch bundled up in warm attire. Their breath formed white puffs in the frost-bitten air. Sometimes, Hideo realized, rain felt like snow depending on the time of the year. His wife sat leaned against the pillar with an impassive face as she found her hands entangled in the blanket around her. She was nervous.
"Yokohama called for me. But I promise I will be back in a month." he surmised.
"Don't make promises you can't keep." she countered.
He looked at his hands close and open. It reminded him of something a boy would do to occupy his time during an uncomfortable moment.
"Why do you hate me?" he blurted.
"Hate..."
The words she murmured were so vague in content. It was blank. Emotions couldn't be revealed through any gesture she made. She was like a porcelain doll. So beautiful, yet still with only the emotions painted on her face.
"I am not allowed to feel hate for you, Hideo-san."
Her voice was so cold. It pierced his ears and stung his heart.
"Our families arranged this. We must do with what fate has given us." she said almost inaudibly with the rain drowning her out.
"Why do you talk like this? Don't you feel anything at all?" he asked almost desparately.
"I am your wife. I have nothing, and you have everything."
Even though her words were so emotional, the projection was so empty. And all through that time, he glanced over at her with her hair fanned out on her shoulders and he couldn't help thinking maybe she was a fallen angel.
***
Hideo laid his son on his futon and tucked him underneath the covers. He adjusted his gi to cover up his bare chest and put the blanket over for extra warmth. He sat back on his heels and let his hand just lay on his knees. He and Midori, products of a marriage of convenience, made him. Hideo knew that he loved Midori, nothing could prove it false, but maybe there were doubts in the back of his mind. Maybe they weren't supposed to have children in the first place. Maybe their marriage was just something she pretended to enjoy. He didn't know anymore. It was times like this he felt so bad for doubting the one truth he knew to be faithful: his marriage.
*** *** ***
Kiyosato sat underneath the cherry blossom tree near the cemetery. He was cold and wet. His hair matted to his head and his clothes were drenched. He felt like such a little child balled up in his position. That's when he heard small footsteps and soft breaths. He peered up from his arms to see Tomoe standing before him. She was still a vision even in her exhausted state. Mud stained her kimono and her hair was loose now. All of her hair cascaded down her shoulders, and an umbrella hovering above her head to keep her from the rain.
"Tomoe..."
Her name escaped his lips in surprise and his eyes found hers. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked flustered. In his eyes, she had never looked more beautiful. She took a step forward and paused, her eyes cold upon him. He caught his breath as he awaited what was to come. Instead, the umbrella dropped to the ground, splashing some of the mud onto Kiyosato. Not long after, Tomoe followed, falling to her knees with her labored breathing beating in his ears. She looked up and he watched her pensively as her hand came up. Her fingers barely reached his cheek as she brushed the dirt off.
"Tomoe..."
He hadn't realized how huskily he had just let her name tumble off his lips.
"I was waiting for you." he said softly.
Her hand fell numbly back down and she felt something warm brush against her cheek. She looked up to see Kiyosato's eyes, so warm and inviting. His fingers brushed away the drenched tendril of hair from her face and he chuckled good-heartedly. Tomoe got up and sat beside him, her back against the tree.
"So why were you here?" she asked softly.
"I needed some time to think." he replied.
Tomoe noticed he had one hand upon his cheek.
"Did Etoro strike you?" Tomoe asked in concern.
Kiyosato's eyes darkened and his eyes seemed glued to the ground before him.
"It doesn't matter anymore."
"Kiyosato, that's not like you.
"Tomoe?"
"Hm?"
"What do you think people should do if they want something, but your family wants another?"
"My family arranges my future. I must do with what fate has given me."
"That's so pessimistic."
"Indeed, but it's true. Each man has his own path that they must follow."
"Then I wish mine was along yours."
"Kiyosato-."
Kiyosato's pulled Tomoe into his embrace. He clutched her to him so tightly as if afraid to let her go. She was so shocked, but melted into it so easily.
"Gomen nasai..." she whimpered.
He chuckled softly.
- End of Act VIII -
Author's Notes:: Sorry about not updating! I've been trying to get my butt to this computer and type! I had my honor choir concert! Yeah! But I had dance rehearsals. Bleh! I feel like a puppet! Anyway, I hope you like this. In this chapter, I wanted to show Enishi and Hideo a bit more and kind of leave Tomoe as a side-liner. In the beginning, you can tell I was trying to show their points-of-view on their situations. Please read (with pleasure I hope) and review! Until next time!
