Author's notes: A special thanks go to Riina for the successful completion of this chapter. Without her I would have stayed ignorant of the dream that has been my inspiration. Thank you for putting my feet on the ground and pointing me in the right direction girl. Every chapter from here on in owes their conception to your helping words :)
Chapter 10:
Dark clouds rolled slowly over the mountains in the north, tall and billowy, reaching straight up into the heavens and spreading out across the mountain peaks. They would be almost beautiful if it weren't for the occasional yellow streak of lightening that flashed out from their depths, arcing across the sky in an awesome show of nature's fury. Even the ones that couldn't be seen were still eye-widening in their magnitude, flashing within the dark tendrils of the clouds, yellow and white patches coming to life and tracing endless paths through the gray monsters in the sky. But they were far away, probably wreaking their havoc upon a city beyond the high blue mountains. Still, their presence was unnerving, foretelling of the cold, harsh season that was only weeks away. It didn't snow in the southern regions of this world, just got bitterly cold, with rainstorms that tore leaves from branches and created winds that demolished homes not protected against the severe weather. Today though the weather was uncommonly warm, almost pleasant, it if weren't for the cool wind that blew through occasionally in short, biting gusts.
However Marissa wasn't thinking about the weather as she stood outside the house, her arms crossed loosely over her chest, ears focused acutely on the noises emanating from within the building. The sounds of Chichiri preparing to leave.
He'd decided that morning that today would be perfect to go shopping for needed supplies for the winter. He'd told Marissa in a clipped tone which offered no room for protests that she was to stay at the house and wait for him to return. If the trip was to be quick she'd have to stay behind, which came across as an clear insult to her. Whether he was referring to her being a distraction or just an enthusiastic shopper she wasn't sure, but at the moment she could less care either way.
Marissa had stepped outside as he began to prepare for his departure, her back leaning heavily against the wooden wall of the structure, the front door to her left. She wouldn't stop him or argue; in fact he was right. They needed supplies for the upcoming season and if he felt that her coming along would be a hindrance to him she wasn't one to protest. Nope, rather she just preferred to sulk quietly outside, taking solace in the pleasant weather that was sure to quickly become something of the past.
At a noise to her left Marissa looked over to watch Chichiri emerge from the house, dressed in all his formal attire, the kesa draped casually over his shoulder and kasa secured around his neck with a thin string as it rested against his straight back. With his staff gripped lightly in one hand he reached up with the other to give a final tug to his bubble-patterned cloak, his face curiously turned away to avoid Marissa's gaze. He stepped away from the structure but then paused as his feet reached the dirt road. Finally he turned to Marissa, their gazes locking.
Try as hard as she might Marissa couldn't stay mad at Chichiri under that gaze. Though his expression remained empty, it was nothing like the hard, emotionless looks he had been giving her before. Perhaps it was the way his head was cocked slightly to the side, the masked face expressing amusement more than anything. It seemed he was waiting for her to say something, but strangely her mouth had gone dry and she could only stare back, her eyes silently questioning him.
His smile widened slightly as he reached back to bring the kasa over his head. With a small nod and his face now shielded by the hat and his hand he turned to go, waving back once as his long strides took him away from the house.
She watched him go down the road, not moving from the wall until he had curved out of sight with the rest of the path, the forest enveloping him until he would emerge at the outskirts of the city perhaps two hours later. With a sigh she turned and walked into the house, smoothing down her homespun dress and pausing before the table momentarily, debating on what to do now. Exploring was out of the question, for even without Chichiri ordering her to stay in the house she would have decided that for herself. A foreign world stood outside the front door and she dreaded to face it alone. But then what else was there for her to do?
Her eyes fell upon the crates which stood stacked against the right wall and not for the first time she felt her curiosity spark at discovering what their contents were. Chichiri had never said the boxes were off limits, in fact neither one of them seemed to take much notice of them unless something unusual was needed and could only be found in their reserves. Marissa herself had only cracked into maybe two of them her entire stay. If they were going to need supplies for the winter, what better way to be prepared than to take an inventory of what they already had? Seemed perfectly logical and even helpful. If he wanted her to stay home, well then she was going to prove to him that she wasn't the type just to sit around and twiddle her thumbs waiting for her sensei to return.
With a self gratifying smirk Marissa walked over to the stack and bent to pick up the crate nearest to her. It wasn't extremely heavy, but enough to cause her to grunt slightly in surprise when she finally managed to lift it. She set it carefully on the wooden table behind her, taking a moment to catch her breath before she tackled removing the lid. It seemed to be nailed firmly in place, a tight seal all around the lid's edges. Frowning slightly she ran her fingers over the wood, trying not to be put off by the fact that the first crate she had chosen seemed unable to be opened. After pulling at the rough wood unsuccessfully for a few moments she paused to think, painfully aware of how the tips of her fingers were raw and red, so the thought of continuing that course of action was now out of the question.
Shrugging finally when no other solution presented herself, she rested the palm of her hand over a corner of the box, biting her lower lip in concentration as she felt the familiar ki warm her skin. The wood lid creaked after a moment and she pulled her hand away, peering closer to see that the nail which had been hammered firmly into place was now buried a good few inches into the wall of the box. Testing the lid she pulled at it experimentally and smiled when the edge pulled up, though not far since the rest of the box still had three nails to take care of.
When the rest of the iron nails had been driven out of the lid she pulled it off, wrinkling her nose in surprise as a strong aroma assaulted her nostrils. She waved the lid over the top of the box once, dispelling the initial wave of fragrant air, then set the lid down on the table and began sifting through the box's contents. It seemed to be filled with at least a dozen small satchels, each one a different shade of white, beige, or brown, tied securely at their tops with rope or twine. Some were heavier than others, but most of them rested easily in the palm of her hand, their contents feeling either flaky or granular, of which those then ranged in size from fine powders to chunky pellets.
Curiosity getting the better of her, Marissa pulled out every small bag and set them on the table top, then pushed the box aside so that she might investigate them better. The first one she opened was a small, burlap colored satchel, the sides pulled up and tied securely by a long piece of frayed twine. Inside lay a large sprig of some plant, dry and crumbly to the touch, most of the leaves having already fallen off to lay at the bottom of the bag. Marissa pulled her fingers away and smelled them, recognizing the familiar scent of rosemary. She smiled and retied the bag, setting it inside the box before grabbing the next one.
This one was one of the larger bags, and much heavier, rolling between her fingers as she lifted it with her hand. Setting it on the table she carefully undid the tie, smiling when she saw a faint sparkle of white crystals. Wetting her finger she dipped it into the bag then tasted what had stuck to her skin, delighted in finding the contents to be none other than rock salt. 'This will definitely come in handy later,' she thought to herself, recalling the fact that salted meats kept much longer, promising her and Chichiri at least some meat during the winter.
Eagerly she moved onto the next sack, this one large and heavy was well, though it's contents felt much firmer and didn't yield as easily as the rock salt had to her fingers. It's outward color of medium beige did little to betray its contents, which turned out to be nearly a pound of brown sugar. Unable to resist Marissa dipped a generous finger into the sugar and nearly moaned at the taste of the sweet granules. It had been so long since she'd tasted something so sweet and delicious. Oh wow, the possibilities were endless now with what they could make.
"Why didn't we look inside these boxes sooner?" Marissa wondered aloud, grudgingly closing the bag of sweet sugar to see what else was there to find, and taste for that matter.
In all there were ten more bags to investigate, none as large as the three she had already opened, and most were significantly lighter. Their contents revealed them to contain several sticks of cinnamon, dried leaves of basil, curry powder, green tea leaves, two full heads of garlic, ground ginger, whole black pepper, dried oregano leaves, a delicious smelling five spice powder, and a generous amount of sesame seeds.
Very happy with the discoveries she'd made Marissa resealed the box and set it on the floor, turning around the grab the next crate closest to her. It turned out to lighter than the first, but still heavier than she had expected. Unfortunately this box presented the same problem as the last one, and Marissa was beginning to wonder if she should be grateful or annoyed that someone had sealed up the boxes so well.
Using the same trick from before she placed her hand over each corner of the box and pushed down the nails holding the lid in place. When she had finished she sighed and wiped her forehead, feeling slightly flushed from the amount of ki she was summoning, despite the cool air in the house. Giving the lid a good push she let it clatter to the table top, curious at the sight which greeted her beneath the lid. Three clay jars stood upright in the box, each one a different shape and size, with a tight lid covering each one.
Marissa hefted out the first jar, which happened to be the biggest of the three. Setting it on the table she saw that a wax seal had been placed around the edges of the lid, keeping whatever was inside unexposed to the air. Briefly she wondered if she should chance removing the lid, but after a moment she shrugged the thought aside. These crates had supplies in them meant to be used, whatever was in the jar was just being preserved.
Running the tip of her index finger around the circumference of the lid she slowly melted away the wax seal, gently loosening the lid with her other hand as she went. Finally it pulled away with a sticky pop and Marissa peeked inside the jar. A brown, liquid surface looked back up at her and she tipped the jar to the side, watching the liquid slowly side to the right. The scent of the liquid finally reached her nose then, and she grinned widely. Alright, jackpot! With a quiet laugh she dipped her finger into the pot of honey and drew out a generous amount, licking her finger clean as she replaced the lid. Whoever left us these boxes, you have my eternal thanks.
Not bothering to reseal the wax yet Marissa moved onto the next jar, which was shorter than the first but definitely wider than the other two. Melting away the wax once again she popped open the lid, suddenly pinching her nose at the smell that assaulted her. "Ugh, vinegar," she coughed and quickly put the lid back in place, taking a moment to reseal the lid on the off chance that the smell would leak out if she didn't. "Well, if we're ever in the mood for pickles, I'll know where to look." Marissa smiled wryly and set the jar aside, pulling out the last one.
This time after melting away the wax she leaned back before removing the lid, preparing for another attack on her senses. However nothing pungent reached her nose after a moment so she bent over the jar, seeing a deep pool of black liquid inside. Tipping the jar slightly she watched the slow, syrupy liquid roll to the lip of the jar, not unlike the honey she had just tasted before. Taking a deep whiff of the jar's contents she was greeted with a sweet, musky smell, and in the back of her mind she struggled to remember what it belonged to. It was nothing like honey, but smelled like the taste of something she was sure she had just eaten. Snapping her fingers after a moment she smiled and pushed the lid back in place. Of course, molasses!
With that box finished she turned to the next, which thankfully had a lid that easily popped off. Inside was a small assortment of cups and bowls, including a pile of wooden chopsticks bound together with pieces of twine, two of which were unfortunately snapped in half. But the tea cups and bowls were all intact, clay utensils that had been forged and glazed quite nicely. Marissa stopped to admire the craftsmanship of the dishes, noting how the hairline cracks in the glaze actually produced interesting patterns across their surfaces, diagonal lines that wrapped and swirled around the palm sized cups. There were small bowls meant for soup, and larger bowls meant for meals, four of each kind laying in the box.
Turning around the retrieve the next box Marissa realized that she had almost cleared out the corner. Two barrels and two boxes were all that remained pressed against the wall. She picked up the smallest crate first then set it aside, remembering that its contents consisted of the medical supplies she had used before, bandages and a collection of herbs she couldn't even begin to identify. Thank god neither of us has gotten sick, she mused, stepping back into the cleared corner.
Both of the barrels proved too heavy to lift, and each had a ring of five nails driven into their lids, creating a tight seal that not even moisture could get through. Again Marissa contemplated her actions, for the barrels had been obviously sealed for a reason, what would happen if she suddenly exposed them to the air? Then again, winter was coming and these were meant to be used, not locked away forever. With a self assured nod Marissa set about to tackling each of the lids, wishing for a hammer despite the fact that she could use her ki to dispense with the obstacles. Summoning up a burst of controlled energy seemed a little harder then prying up the nail with a hammer's claw.
Once the lids were off she stared happily into each of the barrels. A full container of ground white flower lay in one, and a three-quarter full barrel of whole oats sat in the other. After a moment Marissa paused to wonder why the second barrel hadn't been as full as the first. Both were tightly sealed and probably hadn't been opened since they were placed in the house. Suddenly the answer came to her and she made a disgusted face, placing the lid back on top. Room for things to grow was what it meant. Shuddering she replaced the other lid and bent down the pick up the last crate.
This one was much different from the rest, measuring at least an arm's span long, and was undoubtedly the heaviest as well, forcing Marissa to half drag, half carry it across the floor to the table. She compromised with the box and let it rest on the bench, the crate taking up nearly the entire length of it, unwilling to throw out her back by dragging it onto the table top. The lid was fixed on tightly but finally came away after a moment of hard tugging. Inside lay a wide variety of objects, some of which could be seen as the reasons the box weighed so much. Laying lengthwise in the box was a short handled shovel and how, their metal parts gleaming as though they'd never been used. Atop the equipment were an assortment of bags and satchels, each wrapped with a paper tag that was labeled in Chinese.
Sighing disappointedly at not being able to read the foreign symbols Marissa decided it was easier just to peek inside each bag and see what they contained. There were well over two dozen sacks in all and to her delight they contained an abundance of roots and vegetable seeds. Potato, onion, carrot, tomato, pea, garlic, rice, and plenty of others she couldn't identify lay individually within the bags.
I hope Chichiri will know, Marissa thought excitedly, retying each of the pouches before placing them back into the crate. This means we get to have a vegetable garden in spring! Fresh fruits and vegetables, and who knows what else. No more rice and fish for me! That brought to mind their usual breakfast, making her blanche at the memory. We're definitely going to have a garden. We could probably plant it right outside the house, get fresh dirt and fertilizer from the city, maybe even put a fence around the whole thin-
Suddenly Marissa stopped her train of thought, hands clenching against the lid of the gardening box. "Baka," she breathed out sharply.
What was she thinking? In spring Miaka and Taka would come, and then everything would go to hell. How could she have forgotten, or dared to make plans as though nothing were happening?
''ve gotten too comfortable here, she realized in dismay.
Seeking a task to distract her mind with she quickly restacked all of the boxes into the corner, hands moving as though afraid if she stopped her thoughts would eventually land upon the subject she dreaded most to think of. Finally the last box was back in place and she sat down heavily on the bench, fingers picking at the homespun fabric of her dress.
"There's a war coming." She spoke sternly, yet in the quiet of the house her voice came out strangely hollow and lonely. "No time to play, or make plans, or forget."
Or fall in love, she added silently. What weight did an imaginary crush have when you were faced with the real thing in flesh and blood? She was jeopardizing everything by hoping that maybe one day something would happen. Would not happen. He had already made his position clear to her. Mentor, student. Companions in a fight. Nothing more. It's time you get that through your head, Mari.
Rising from the bench she walked to the open window and looked out, eyes traveling over the contours of the gray-white clouds that had begun to drift overhead. "I hate it here," she choked sadly, clenching her jaw in an effort to not let the tears come that she could feel building up inside her chest. My family, my friends, my pets... everyone I loved, who cared about me, gone. And now I'm stuck here with a guy, the most beautiful man I've ever known, and he positively hates me.
She was trying hard not to cry, because she had been good so far and only cried a few times in the beginning. Everyone hates it when the girls cry, she thought despondently, but even as the bitter thought passed through her mind her barriers were already breaking down. Biting her lip in a last effort she felt a quick sob escape and the first tear trickled down her cheek, tracing a path that was soon to be followed by many others. But strangely after a moment it wasn't the hot feeling of tears that touched her face, but a few cool, light drops. Blinking she looked up, and felt the light sprinkle begin to come down, cooling her flushed face. But the grief was still there and soon her tears turned from hot to warm as they mixed with the cool rain that slowly fell from the sky.
* * * * * * *
It was dark, outside and inside. Marissa's footfalls on the wood floor paced nervously back and forth, a low fire in the hearth flickering uncertainly between orange and yellow, while the winds outside howled and blew. What had begun earlier as a light sprinkle had turned into a heavy downpour, with winds that gusted past the house as though seeking to knock down its walls. Flashes of lightening shone through the cracks in the shuttered windows, which were now lashed tightly from the rain, followed right after by a thundering boom that sent even Tama-chan running for cover.
Now stuck inside Marissa could do no more than make sure that the fire didn't die down and straighten up around the small house, which by now no more could really be done in. But when the rains had begun to fall in earnest and the storm that wasn't supposed to hit did, then she began to worry. Chichiri hadn't returned yet from his trip to the city and with each passing second she dreaded the worst had happened. With rains like this he could easily have been trapped inside the city until they abated, or maybe the road had been flooded, or maybe he'd been walking when the storm hit and now he was lost in the woods!
Stopping her pacing Marissa rolled her eyes and gave her forehead and light slap. Baka. You're not helping this any.
Alright, so practically what could she do about this? Either sit at home and wait patiently for him to return on the hope that he was even on his way and not still at the city, because she was not looking forward to waiting up the whole time. Or she could brave the storm and see if he was coming down the road, just to reassure herself that he was on his way. There'd be no problem with ducking outside quickly, right? Then again, she could just go to sleep and try to forget about it, having faith that her sensei would be there in the morning when she woke up, just as cold and untalkative as usual.
Marissa scowled at the thought and tapped her foot impatiently. There's no way I'm going to sit up now. He doesn't even deserve me being this worried about him! For all she knew he'd already settled down for the night at some nice inn and was sipping a warm cup of tea, not even thinking about the student he'd left at home by herself, totally confident that she would follow his orders to the letter and wait for him to return like an obedient dog.
At this point Marissa was steaming and very torn between being openly belligerent and just storming outside, or flopping down on the bed and forgetting all of this had ever happened. Maybe when I wake up I'll be back home. Oh what a nice thought...
A persistent light scratching roused her from her thoughts and she looked around curiously, eyes finally landing on the floor where Tama-chan sat in front of the door. He was pawing at the wooden frame, claws catching hold of the coarse wood as he stretched, small plaintive mews emitting from his tiny throat. Concerned Marissa stood up and crouched down beside him, patting his head as he continued to claw at the door.
"Tama-chan, doushite no?" But his only reply was a sad meow, followed by more insistent scratching.
Wondering what could be wrong Marissa opened the door a crack, peering into the dark air for the reason why the cat had suddenly grown so anxious. However to her surprise, and before she could stop him, Tama leapt through the small opening and bounded away, his body a white blur disappearing down the road.
"Shimatta!" Marissa cursed and grabbed a blanket that was sitting on the bench, wrapping it over her head and shoulders as she ran after the cat, hearing the door slam behind her as she waved her hand and sent a burst of ki to close it.
Though Tama-chan was out of sight now, she had seen the direction he had taken off in, and with determined steps she hurried after. Soon the house fell out of sight behind her and she entered the road that ran through the woods, no wider than two horses across, and unfortunately offering plenty cover for a cat to hide in. Exasperated Marissa slowed her walk and began to look into the foliage alongside the road, calling out Tama's name every few feet.
Every clap of thunder overhead sent her jumping, not to mention it was drowning out her voice, or any sounds that might be coming from Tama-neko. Oh if I ever wished for more powers, it would be to send away this damn storm! she thought angrily, but as nature would have it, the storm only pounded down harder on her head, thoroughly soaking the thin blanket. Dripping wet now and getting colder by the minute, Marissa called out for the vanishing cat, wishing desperately that there were such things as umbrellas in ancient China.
Crouching down by the side of the road she looked into the line of trees and shrubs, trying to make out anything that looked like a soaked ball of white fur. Seeing nothing she turned to rise up, but stopped when another sound greeted her ears. It was far away, but definitely not something you'd hear when stuck out in a heavy downpour. Turning her head in the direction she squinted into the sheet of water that was falling before her eyes, struggling to make out anything against the gray backdrop of the sky on the road. Then a figure rose from the horizon, and her eyes widened in surprise.
Dashing over as quickly as possible, feet skidding dangerously in the mud and water, she reached Chichiri's side just in time to keep him from stumbling to his knees. He was soaked from head to foot, the staff clutched tightly by both hands as if it were a life line. It had been the jingle of the rings that had caught her attention she realized now, but that fact was filed back into her mind as she realized that state of the man that was leaning against her now.
"Chichiri?" she called loudly, struggling to be heard over the roar of a thunder clap that had decided to go off overhead. However his eye, which was now maskless, only rose to look at her face weakly. Worriedly she placed a wet hand on his forehead and pulled away suddenly as though she had been burned. He was on fire!
"Oh gods..." she choked out, adjusting the limp body against her shoulder as she began dragging him back towards the house. It was like all of his energy had been drained, his feet only shuffling weakly as she pulled him along with her. It was amazing that he had gotten this far at all. But Marissa tried not to think about that as she adjusted her grip on the full sized man. They were both soaked to the bone now, but even through the wool shirt Chichiri was wearing she could feel the fever leaking through his skin.
You baka! she admonished him silently, gritting her teeth as she struggled to make out the road in front of them, finding her vision blurred by her matted hair and the heavy rain. He hadn't been eating or sleeping and for all she knew he had completely wasted his ki energy as well during all those meditations. How could he do this to himself, and then put himself in such danger? Gods if she hadn't come out here...
She struggled not to think of that as they finally came to the house, the door flying open awkwardly as she pushed it with her hand, not trusting herself to muster up the ki in her current state. Breathing heavily she dragged Chichiri into the bedroom and practically dropped him on the bed, which drew a low moan of pain from his lips. Tentatively she touched his forehead again, retracting her hand just as quickly, positive now that the fever she'd felt had been real. Quickly she divested him of his outer clothing and shoes, her own soaked state forgotten as she worked to slide him into the bed. Every time she touched him he moaned, as though every muscle in his body was in pain, and somewhere in her mind Marissa knew that the fever had managed to spread far and fast.
Oh gods, Mitsukake, if I ever needed you, now would be the time! Her silent prayer was lost in the clap of a distant roll of thunder, and the rain outside the house poured down just as heavily, the world nothing more than a wet gray patch, erasing everything in its path.
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