Chapter 56
The Bloodstained Magnolia
However strange it may sound, it is true: I am genuinely happy. A fog of sorrow and insecurity has shrouded the entire palace since His Highness Hotohori rode into battle with Tasuki and Koji two weeks ago. All around me are hushed voices and sad eyes and down-turned lips, and yet inside of me I am so alive that at times I feel more guilt than happiness. I do not know for the life of me exactly what has cheered my heart so much. A few weeks ago I was simply going through the motions of living - walking, speaking, eating - and yet I always felt more dead that alive. At times I felt a tinge of happiness in me, such as when I would visit Asako in the city or sit in the sweetness of the seraglio courtyard talking contentedly with the courtesans. But I never knew true happiness such as I feel now could be possible in my circumstances. My husband is away at war. And my future, although free and safe, is in the hands of that war, whether or not it decides to return my husband to me once he has completed his duty.
I see Koi glancing at me from the corners of her blue eyes, grinning happily. And when I ask her why she's smiling, she says it's because I'm smiling. When I have time to actually sit and ponder the reason for my sudden happiness, I suddenly realize that it's because of Koji. When I saw him and heard him speak of Mount Reikaku, it brought it alive in my mind again. The mountain isn't just an enigma or a far-away place that I once knew; it has become a living, breathing thing that is drawing me closer and closer to it. I feel its presence in the distance, as if it knows I plan of coming to it. I see it in my dreams, both at night and during the day. Seeing and meeting Koji was what saved me. Speaking to him and seeing the wildness of his eyes, knowing that he was from Reikaku, made me remember that it's a real place not so far from my grasp.
But remembering the mountain has also brought the bittersweet memories of my family alive again. Day after day I find myself thinking more and more about them, wondering where they are, what they're doing, what they look like, and so many other things that confuse me and worry and fluster me to the point where I'm bordering on depression again. I wonder most about my siblings, whom I loved with all my heart while I was with them. My sister would be a woman now, nearly my age. Does she have a husband? A home of her own? A child, maybe? Is she happy? Is she well? Does she miss our mother as much as I do? It is questions like these that twist and turn inside my mind constantly. I wonder about my two younger brothers quite a lot, too, especially the youngest, the one my mother died for so that he could be born into the world. He would be six or seven years old now. And our father - what has become of him? Even after all these years of cursing him and wondering why in hell he gave me to Shingen to save himself from his debt, I still have no hate for him. The respect that a daughter has for her father has diminished, but I cannot say that I hate him. Hate is a strong, fearful, cowardly word that people try to protect themselves with, and yet to hate someone or something is to be almost inhuman. It doesn't seem emotionally or mentally possible to truly hate another person. I do wonder about him. Is he still living? Is he healthy? Or did other debts he might have had eventually catch up with him? It is very possible that he has joined my mother in the afterlife, but I find myself hoping that this isn't true.
Are they still in the little town in the valley? This is the question that tortures my mind most often. This is the question that I die to answer. And this is the question that both terrifies and excites me. I want to see them again, and yet that very same passion that makes me desire to be reunited with them fuels my desire to elude them forever, to make them think that I was swallowed in the chaos of the capital and never managed to escape. It would be very easy to do that. I could never again set foot in the place I was born. But it would also be very easy to walk into the little town and follow the street to the place my family lived five years ago. They could be there and they could not. But I could go anyway, just to see for myself.
And so the days go on, and they mold themselves into weeks, and soon another month is approaching. The atmosphere of the palace has become like that of a graveyard - silent, airy, and haunted. The sound of laughter startles people because it's been so long since they last heard it. Smiles are usually only ones of sympathy. The way that people now walk reminds you of those following a funeral procession. And yet somehow the interior of the seraglio has retained the serene yet cheerful atmosphere that made me fall in love with it not so long ago.
People dig out reasons and excuses for visiting the seraglio - especially Empress Hoki. My heart bleeds for her as if it's been impaled. The look in her eyes is that of a wraith - lost and slowly on its way to becoming angry. Her sorrow at losing her husband to the uncertainties of war outshines mine like the sun outshines the moon. And so I stay close to her whenever I can, and I can sense the relief in her heart, almost as if its sighing. We truly are kindred souls now. We are very similar, and yet our differences could not be more astounding since my husband is not the emperor of Konan and I am not carrying within me the heir to the empire's throne. But we view each other very differently now. We have a mutual understanding. We can console each other with a single glance of sympathetic yet courageous eyes. And we have become each other's greatest comfort for the time being.
Her belly has a small, smooth curve to it now, and it's exotically beautiful in my eyes. A pregnant woman is a magnificent sight for me to behold. And Lady Hoki carries herself in the way a woman should when she is holding another life within her - she walks with her head high and her eyes leveled, her body swaying, her hands settled atop the firm little bump beneath her swollen breasts. I find myself staring at her in pure admiration. She never weeps. She never speaks His Highness's name. She never physically shows how much and how brutally she mourns, and yet you can feel it in the thick, sweet air that surrounds her. It hangs above her and beside her and clings to her smooth skin like wet cloth. But she never reveals that she knows it's there - and for this I admire her and grieve for her at the same time.
We endure the weeks as the wives of warriors should. We may not have chosen to love the men that we love, but we did choose to stand beside them whenever they need our presence and to wait for them whenever they do not. And this is exactly what we do now - we wait, quietly, patiently, and with so much courage that I feel gazes of awe upon me every now and then.
Tokizo arrives at the palace on a day in the middle of Autumn when the trees are on fire with color. And when Okichi gets word, she disappears before I even have a chance to ask if she'd like company. My dear friend does not bring good news from the battlefield. When he and Okichi come to the seraglio after he has delivered the news to His Highness's advisors, they are walking slowly and heavily, with her obviously supporting him on her strong, feminine shoulder. We sit together in the chilled air of the courtyard, shielded from the falling magnolia blossoms and leaves by one of the gazebos that surround the fountain.
My dear Tokizo's eyes are so bland that they almost appear colorless, and shallow lines have appeared at the corners of those sullen eyes and across his masculine, regal forehead. He has obviously been aged quite a bit by the war. When he speaks though, his voice still holds the firm gentleness that protected me during the months I waited for Tasuki to return from Hokkan. He takes a deep breath and speaks with clear, soft words that carry on them both sorrow and admiration.
"Mitsukake of the Suzaku Seven has passed away," he tells us, sighing deeply. "I have already informed the emperor's advisors and thought that at least someone in the seraglio should know."
My heart cries out in my chest. Another man of Suzaku has died. I lower my head and cover my face with my hands. "How did he die, Tokizo?" I ask quietly. "In battle?"
"No," he answers, and I can tell by the tone of his voice that what he is about to tell us is either a miracle or simply unbelievable. "He just passed away. He was injured quite awhile ago, but instead of returning to the capital to recover, he decided to remain behind on the battlefield to help treat the wounded. It isn't just soldiers who are being wounded in this war though, hundreds of civilians have been injured since fighting began on the eastern borders two months ago. I wasn't there when it happened, but the officer assigned to have me report to the capital told me the best he could. An infant girl was brought by her parents to the battlefield clinic not long after a battle, saying that she was having difficulty breathing. Mitsukake apparently had no medication for her sickness, so he decided to give the child his own life force in order to save her. And so he did. And he died not long after."
I stare in disbelief at the polished wooden floor of the gazebo. He died quietly of his own accord to save the life of a child. I could feel the strength inside that man when I first met him so long ago, and I could feel the calm of his soul - like medicine. I smile softly to myself. Never in my life have I known such noble people as the ones I've met through my husband.
"This means that only four remain." I whisper, mostly to myself.
"Four what?" inquires Okichi.
"Four warriors of Suzaku - Tasuki, Chichiri, His Highness, and Tamahome." I pause for a moment and seal my fingers over my lips in horror. How in hell could I forget? Tamahome isn't even in this world any longer, and neither is the priestess. Tasuki told me a month ago that they suddenly vanished on the battlefield. They are now in Miaka's world. I lift my eyes to gaze intently at Tokizo.
"Is there any word of the priestess and Tamahome?" I ask, lowering my fingers back to my lap.
Tokizo shakes his head sorrowfully. "None."
I send a silent prayer to Suzaku to protect his priestess and his warrior. He may be sealed away from his followers, but I know that he must hear us somehow. He must know that we are fighting in his name. My thoughts then turn to the one man I wish to know the most about. I smile unconsciously.
"And Tasuki? Is he still well?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
My eyes gaze at Tokizo hopefully, demandingly. He smiles coyly and sweetly, just as I remember his smile, and he reaches down into his red and golden breastplate. He retrieves a piece of parchment, folded and sealed with wax, and hands it to me with a look of happiness in his calm eyes, almost as if he's overjoyed to be handing me this letter. "From your husband," he replies.
My trembling fingers reach out and grasp the letter, my lips whispering a barely audible thank you to my dear friend. I place it in my lap and fold my hands over it, feeling the smooth paper against the sensitive skin of my palms. It's real.
"I must be leaving now," Tokizo replies, "I am expected back on the battlefield by dawn. Okichi, would you accompany me to the palace gates?" She smiles and slips her hand into his as an answer. He stands, with her at his side, and hovers above me for a moment. Without warning, he bends at the waist, places his hands gently upon my shoulders and kisses my forehead with such tenderness that I am compelled to fling my arms around his neck and pull him to me in an embrace. We stand silently for a moment in the cool air of Autumn and hug each other close. I am so grateful for this man, not only for the loyalty he showed to me during the months I was under his protection, but also for the friendship he gave to me during that time. I needed a friend like him more than anything during that time of my life, and I will forever love him because he became that friend.
"Thank you, Tokizo," I whisper. "Thank you for all you have ever done for me."
"You're welcome, Tansho," he replies, hugging me tighter to his armored chest, "And thank you for being such a magnificent and courageous woman."
We part and look each other in the eyes for a moment, and then he is gone with Okichi clinging lovingly to him. As they walk away, I see him wrap an arm protectively around her shoulders, and I thank him silently for loving her so much . I then gaze down into my lap at the sealed letter waiting for me there. I trail my fingers across it and pick it up, weighing it in my hands. And then I break the seal, unfold it, and begin to read my husband's words to me:
"Dear Tansho,
I had a dream about you a few nights ago. I was standing in a field somewhere, and I know there had been fighting there because the grass was stamped down from boots and horse hooves, and there were pools of blood everywhere. The ground was literally flooded with red. And I saw you in the middle of the field, but your feet weren't touching the ground. You were floating above the trampled grass and the spilled blood, and you were holding a white magnolia in your hands. There were bloodstains all over it, and you were wiping them off with the hem of your dress. Eventually, the magnolia was clean, and I expected to see the hem of your dress stained with the blood you wiped away. But it wasn't. Blood wasn't anywhere, not on the flower, not on your dress, not on your hands. It wasn't even on the ground that had been flooded with it only a few moments earlier. And when all the blood was gone, you stopped floating and stood on the ground as if you knew that it was clean. You walked up to me, kissed me, put the magnolia in my hands, and vanished. And when I woke up, I knew that we would win this war.
I love you, Tan, and I'll see you soon.
Your husband, Tasuki."
I sit for a long time reading and re-reading the letter, tears silently rolling down my cheeks. My soul weeps along with me, longing to be with Tasuki, or simply to catch a glimpse of him or hear his voice. My fingers trace his words, trying to feel him through them. And I do feel him. I feel his bravery and his faith, and I feel his love for me and for his country. And I believe him. I believe that Konan will defeat Kutou, and I believe that I will see my husband again some day very soon.
I fold the letter, slip it inside my inner robe next to my heart, stand up, and walk through the beauty of the seraglio courtyard towards my quarters to await the return of my husband.
A/N: Hey there, guys! Sorry that this update took so long, but I just started my second semester of college last week and was a little busy, you know. ^_^ I hope all of you liked this chapter. It's a bit of a filler, I know, but I tried to add in some interesting stuff. ^_^ I'm sorry, but I don't have the time to answer all of your last reviews (though I wish I could). But I will answer a question one of you asked me about chapters 8 & 9. Yes, they're uploaded here - it may just be something wrong with your computer. If you still can't bring them up, just e-mail me and I'll e-mail them to you whenever I can get the chance, OK? ^_^
Thanks again for all the great reviews. As always, they were extremely encouraging. ^_^ Luv you all!!
Aama
The Bloodstained Magnolia
However strange it may sound, it is true: I am genuinely happy. A fog of sorrow and insecurity has shrouded the entire palace since His Highness Hotohori rode into battle with Tasuki and Koji two weeks ago. All around me are hushed voices and sad eyes and down-turned lips, and yet inside of me I am so alive that at times I feel more guilt than happiness. I do not know for the life of me exactly what has cheered my heart so much. A few weeks ago I was simply going through the motions of living - walking, speaking, eating - and yet I always felt more dead that alive. At times I felt a tinge of happiness in me, such as when I would visit Asako in the city or sit in the sweetness of the seraglio courtyard talking contentedly with the courtesans. But I never knew true happiness such as I feel now could be possible in my circumstances. My husband is away at war. And my future, although free and safe, is in the hands of that war, whether or not it decides to return my husband to me once he has completed his duty.
I see Koi glancing at me from the corners of her blue eyes, grinning happily. And when I ask her why she's smiling, she says it's because I'm smiling. When I have time to actually sit and ponder the reason for my sudden happiness, I suddenly realize that it's because of Koji. When I saw him and heard him speak of Mount Reikaku, it brought it alive in my mind again. The mountain isn't just an enigma or a far-away place that I once knew; it has become a living, breathing thing that is drawing me closer and closer to it. I feel its presence in the distance, as if it knows I plan of coming to it. I see it in my dreams, both at night and during the day. Seeing and meeting Koji was what saved me. Speaking to him and seeing the wildness of his eyes, knowing that he was from Reikaku, made me remember that it's a real place not so far from my grasp.
But remembering the mountain has also brought the bittersweet memories of my family alive again. Day after day I find myself thinking more and more about them, wondering where they are, what they're doing, what they look like, and so many other things that confuse me and worry and fluster me to the point where I'm bordering on depression again. I wonder most about my siblings, whom I loved with all my heart while I was with them. My sister would be a woman now, nearly my age. Does she have a husband? A home of her own? A child, maybe? Is she happy? Is she well? Does she miss our mother as much as I do? It is questions like these that twist and turn inside my mind constantly. I wonder about my two younger brothers quite a lot, too, especially the youngest, the one my mother died for so that he could be born into the world. He would be six or seven years old now. And our father - what has become of him? Even after all these years of cursing him and wondering why in hell he gave me to Shingen to save himself from his debt, I still have no hate for him. The respect that a daughter has for her father has diminished, but I cannot say that I hate him. Hate is a strong, fearful, cowardly word that people try to protect themselves with, and yet to hate someone or something is to be almost inhuman. It doesn't seem emotionally or mentally possible to truly hate another person. I do wonder about him. Is he still living? Is he healthy? Or did other debts he might have had eventually catch up with him? It is very possible that he has joined my mother in the afterlife, but I find myself hoping that this isn't true.
Are they still in the little town in the valley? This is the question that tortures my mind most often. This is the question that I die to answer. And this is the question that both terrifies and excites me. I want to see them again, and yet that very same passion that makes me desire to be reunited with them fuels my desire to elude them forever, to make them think that I was swallowed in the chaos of the capital and never managed to escape. It would be very easy to do that. I could never again set foot in the place I was born. But it would also be very easy to walk into the little town and follow the street to the place my family lived five years ago. They could be there and they could not. But I could go anyway, just to see for myself.
And so the days go on, and they mold themselves into weeks, and soon another month is approaching. The atmosphere of the palace has become like that of a graveyard - silent, airy, and haunted. The sound of laughter startles people because it's been so long since they last heard it. Smiles are usually only ones of sympathy. The way that people now walk reminds you of those following a funeral procession. And yet somehow the interior of the seraglio has retained the serene yet cheerful atmosphere that made me fall in love with it not so long ago.
People dig out reasons and excuses for visiting the seraglio - especially Empress Hoki. My heart bleeds for her as if it's been impaled. The look in her eyes is that of a wraith - lost and slowly on its way to becoming angry. Her sorrow at losing her husband to the uncertainties of war outshines mine like the sun outshines the moon. And so I stay close to her whenever I can, and I can sense the relief in her heart, almost as if its sighing. We truly are kindred souls now. We are very similar, and yet our differences could not be more astounding since my husband is not the emperor of Konan and I am not carrying within me the heir to the empire's throne. But we view each other very differently now. We have a mutual understanding. We can console each other with a single glance of sympathetic yet courageous eyes. And we have become each other's greatest comfort for the time being.
Her belly has a small, smooth curve to it now, and it's exotically beautiful in my eyes. A pregnant woman is a magnificent sight for me to behold. And Lady Hoki carries herself in the way a woman should when she is holding another life within her - she walks with her head high and her eyes leveled, her body swaying, her hands settled atop the firm little bump beneath her swollen breasts. I find myself staring at her in pure admiration. She never weeps. She never speaks His Highness's name. She never physically shows how much and how brutally she mourns, and yet you can feel it in the thick, sweet air that surrounds her. It hangs above her and beside her and clings to her smooth skin like wet cloth. But she never reveals that she knows it's there - and for this I admire her and grieve for her at the same time.
We endure the weeks as the wives of warriors should. We may not have chosen to love the men that we love, but we did choose to stand beside them whenever they need our presence and to wait for them whenever they do not. And this is exactly what we do now - we wait, quietly, patiently, and with so much courage that I feel gazes of awe upon me every now and then.
Tokizo arrives at the palace on a day in the middle of Autumn when the trees are on fire with color. And when Okichi gets word, she disappears before I even have a chance to ask if she'd like company. My dear friend does not bring good news from the battlefield. When he and Okichi come to the seraglio after he has delivered the news to His Highness's advisors, they are walking slowly and heavily, with her obviously supporting him on her strong, feminine shoulder. We sit together in the chilled air of the courtyard, shielded from the falling magnolia blossoms and leaves by one of the gazebos that surround the fountain.
My dear Tokizo's eyes are so bland that they almost appear colorless, and shallow lines have appeared at the corners of those sullen eyes and across his masculine, regal forehead. He has obviously been aged quite a bit by the war. When he speaks though, his voice still holds the firm gentleness that protected me during the months I waited for Tasuki to return from Hokkan. He takes a deep breath and speaks with clear, soft words that carry on them both sorrow and admiration.
"Mitsukake of the Suzaku Seven has passed away," he tells us, sighing deeply. "I have already informed the emperor's advisors and thought that at least someone in the seraglio should know."
My heart cries out in my chest. Another man of Suzaku has died. I lower my head and cover my face with my hands. "How did he die, Tokizo?" I ask quietly. "In battle?"
"No," he answers, and I can tell by the tone of his voice that what he is about to tell us is either a miracle or simply unbelievable. "He just passed away. He was injured quite awhile ago, but instead of returning to the capital to recover, he decided to remain behind on the battlefield to help treat the wounded. It isn't just soldiers who are being wounded in this war though, hundreds of civilians have been injured since fighting began on the eastern borders two months ago. I wasn't there when it happened, but the officer assigned to have me report to the capital told me the best he could. An infant girl was brought by her parents to the battlefield clinic not long after a battle, saying that she was having difficulty breathing. Mitsukake apparently had no medication for her sickness, so he decided to give the child his own life force in order to save her. And so he did. And he died not long after."
I stare in disbelief at the polished wooden floor of the gazebo. He died quietly of his own accord to save the life of a child. I could feel the strength inside that man when I first met him so long ago, and I could feel the calm of his soul - like medicine. I smile softly to myself. Never in my life have I known such noble people as the ones I've met through my husband.
"This means that only four remain." I whisper, mostly to myself.
"Four what?" inquires Okichi.
"Four warriors of Suzaku - Tasuki, Chichiri, His Highness, and Tamahome." I pause for a moment and seal my fingers over my lips in horror. How in hell could I forget? Tamahome isn't even in this world any longer, and neither is the priestess. Tasuki told me a month ago that they suddenly vanished on the battlefield. They are now in Miaka's world. I lift my eyes to gaze intently at Tokizo.
"Is there any word of the priestess and Tamahome?" I ask, lowering my fingers back to my lap.
Tokizo shakes his head sorrowfully. "None."
I send a silent prayer to Suzaku to protect his priestess and his warrior. He may be sealed away from his followers, but I know that he must hear us somehow. He must know that we are fighting in his name. My thoughts then turn to the one man I wish to know the most about. I smile unconsciously.
"And Tasuki? Is he still well?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
My eyes gaze at Tokizo hopefully, demandingly. He smiles coyly and sweetly, just as I remember his smile, and he reaches down into his red and golden breastplate. He retrieves a piece of parchment, folded and sealed with wax, and hands it to me with a look of happiness in his calm eyes, almost as if he's overjoyed to be handing me this letter. "From your husband," he replies.
My trembling fingers reach out and grasp the letter, my lips whispering a barely audible thank you to my dear friend. I place it in my lap and fold my hands over it, feeling the smooth paper against the sensitive skin of my palms. It's real.
"I must be leaving now," Tokizo replies, "I am expected back on the battlefield by dawn. Okichi, would you accompany me to the palace gates?" She smiles and slips her hand into his as an answer. He stands, with her at his side, and hovers above me for a moment. Without warning, he bends at the waist, places his hands gently upon my shoulders and kisses my forehead with such tenderness that I am compelled to fling my arms around his neck and pull him to me in an embrace. We stand silently for a moment in the cool air of Autumn and hug each other close. I am so grateful for this man, not only for the loyalty he showed to me during the months I was under his protection, but also for the friendship he gave to me during that time. I needed a friend like him more than anything during that time of my life, and I will forever love him because he became that friend.
"Thank you, Tokizo," I whisper. "Thank you for all you have ever done for me."
"You're welcome, Tansho," he replies, hugging me tighter to his armored chest, "And thank you for being such a magnificent and courageous woman."
We part and look each other in the eyes for a moment, and then he is gone with Okichi clinging lovingly to him. As they walk away, I see him wrap an arm protectively around her shoulders, and I thank him silently for loving her so much . I then gaze down into my lap at the sealed letter waiting for me there. I trail my fingers across it and pick it up, weighing it in my hands. And then I break the seal, unfold it, and begin to read my husband's words to me:
"Dear Tansho,
I had a dream about you a few nights ago. I was standing in a field somewhere, and I know there had been fighting there because the grass was stamped down from boots and horse hooves, and there were pools of blood everywhere. The ground was literally flooded with red. And I saw you in the middle of the field, but your feet weren't touching the ground. You were floating above the trampled grass and the spilled blood, and you were holding a white magnolia in your hands. There were bloodstains all over it, and you were wiping them off with the hem of your dress. Eventually, the magnolia was clean, and I expected to see the hem of your dress stained with the blood you wiped away. But it wasn't. Blood wasn't anywhere, not on the flower, not on your dress, not on your hands. It wasn't even on the ground that had been flooded with it only a few moments earlier. And when all the blood was gone, you stopped floating and stood on the ground as if you knew that it was clean. You walked up to me, kissed me, put the magnolia in my hands, and vanished. And when I woke up, I knew that we would win this war.
I love you, Tan, and I'll see you soon.
Your husband, Tasuki."
I sit for a long time reading and re-reading the letter, tears silently rolling down my cheeks. My soul weeps along with me, longing to be with Tasuki, or simply to catch a glimpse of him or hear his voice. My fingers trace his words, trying to feel him through them. And I do feel him. I feel his bravery and his faith, and I feel his love for me and for his country. And I believe him. I believe that Konan will defeat Kutou, and I believe that I will see my husband again some day very soon.
I fold the letter, slip it inside my inner robe next to my heart, stand up, and walk through the beauty of the seraglio courtyard towards my quarters to await the return of my husband.
A/N: Hey there, guys! Sorry that this update took so long, but I just started my second semester of college last week and was a little busy, you know. ^_^ I hope all of you liked this chapter. It's a bit of a filler, I know, but I tried to add in some interesting stuff. ^_^ I'm sorry, but I don't have the time to answer all of your last reviews (though I wish I could). But I will answer a question one of you asked me about chapters 8 & 9. Yes, they're uploaded here - it may just be something wrong with your computer. If you still can't bring them up, just e-mail me and I'll e-mail them to you whenever I can get the chance, OK? ^_^
Thanks again for all the great reviews. As always, they were extremely encouraging. ^_^ Luv you all!!
Aama