Chapter 1: River of Yearning

Haruko held up a corner of the thick gauze which served as the curtain to the coach they were riding on. Bright sunlight flooded in from the opening, contrasting with the dimly lit space from before with its vividness. Ignoring her friend's mild protests, Haruko peeped out, hoping to catch a glimpse of that young man again.

Her heart fluttered when she saw him riding not far beside her coach. He was sitting straight up on his horse, like a swordsman should; but as always, his head was down, for which she had no doubts that he must be dozing off again. His face was hidden under the attached hood of his frazzled gray cloak, which gave him a dull, almost ailing air; however the long sheathed sword hanging beside him marked him as a swordsman, which was respected and feared by most of the commoners in those days.

Haruko did not fear him. After all she grew up in the house of a general; her father and brother handled weapons daily. Although she was not ordered by her father to study any form of martial arts, she felt quite accommodated to the presence of swordsmen and martial artists. Unfortunately, her lack of fear of the young swordsman did not equal to the assurance of him showing interest towards her. Despite her shy attempts to befriend him, he did not even spare her as much as a glance!

It's hopeless; Haruko thought disappointedly, he'd never notice me, much less to return my affections. She sat back with a forlorn sigh, and let go of the curtain. As a consequence of doing so, the little space inside the coach darkened to what it was before. She closed her eyes as a dull ache crept slowly upon her heart. When the sweetness of joy upon seeing him faded, what replaced it was a bitterness of disappointment more repelling than pain. Yet try as she might, she could not stop her overflowing feelings toward him. Be it a temporary infatuation or perhaps, just perhaps, a love that would last, she was powerless to redirect its course, ever since that day beside that nameless river.

A few days ago they stopped by a small inn in some small village to rest. The rooms available were limited, so they had to split themselves and squeeze into the small rooms. Haruko, being a lady of high position, was not used to such crowdedness, so by evening she felt she might suffocate if she does not go out and breathe in some fresh air.

She did not expect to find anything interesting in such a small village, but when she sauntered aimlessly through a sparse forest—if it can be called a forest at all—she stopped in amazement when a small river jumped into her view, or rather, the figure beside the river jumped into her view.

There on the bank lay a youth, clad in white, seemingly not much older than she, perhaps aged sixteen or seventeen, sleeping soundly by the river. The rosy twilight dyed the silhouette of his tunic with faint golden and reddish hues, and touched his sleeping face with shades of fuzzy warm blush. For an instant Haruko thought that he must be one of those young gods who laden with fatigue, came down from sky to rest in their leisure.

She did not dare to create any noise in fear of waking him up, but she could not withhold herself from walking closer to him. Stopping at a safe distance yet near enough to observe him clearly, she covered her own mouth: he must indeed be the most handsome youth she has ever seen in her sixteen years of life! His face was proportioned with perfection, his skin was pale and smooth like the finest ivory, his lashes were long and thick, and his hair was dark and silky; he was, in a word, the epitome of her fantasized lover-to-be. Moreover, there was a sword lying beside him. Although Haruko was not experience with swords, but she could still tell that the sword was not of cheap made. She chose to believe that he was an experienced young swordsman, courageous and lively, out here alone because he was on a quest of some sort. Such fantasy made Haruko jovially excited for a moment, then she caught herself and blushed at her foolishness. Yet when she looked at the youth, for a moment she could not stop a strange thought, a thought that almost felt like a presentiment, that this youth would be remarkable, one who would affect the lives of many extraordinary people in no small ways.

Much to her relief, the youth did not wake up during the entire time she was observing him. She had feared it so much that her heart was pumping like a mad rabbit. Feeling as if she had done something unholy, she looked around to see if anyone had seen her.

It was then did the surrounding start to strike her. A pellucid stream meandered through the green and yellow grass, having branched off from the river nearby. Not far from the youth was an old cloak, which looked rather familiar to her, and so when she took a closer look, it deemed on her that it belonged to a member of her traveling group. Of course not everyone wore the same clothes, but there were distinguishable patterns that marked one group apart from another. The people from the escort group had their own distinct uniforms. Her own group generally has brighter colors and more sophisticated styles, because they were all from noble families or the servants of such. Yet when an outsider joined them, his worn gray clothes were just impossible to be ignored within such a freshly dressed group.

Can it be? Haruko pondered at the possibility. She had heard that a traveler had joined them two days ago, but she had not the chance to see him yet---not that she really wanted to. Those days a female was not so eager to expose herself to strangers. However, if this youth is indeed that outsider, she now has every desire to acquaint with him.

She sat down on the soft grass, waiting for the youth to wake up, and at the same time wondered what she should say to him. But as dusk crept slowly away to welcome the darkness of night, and the youth had no intention of waking up, she started to worry. After all, she had never been out alone at night, much less in a forest too! She was inching toward him, thinking of arousing him from his slumber, when suddenly he opened his eyes and sat up. With a swift movement too fast for Haruko to discern clearly, he unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the shocked girl.

"Who are you?" He asked.

Haruko shivered under his gaze. His voice had the quality of crystal clarity and water coolness to it, and although he kept his voice low, it felt like listening to the rippling of a small rivulet bubbling out of frozen ice. His eyes, dark as obsidians, were icy-cold, but they contained such intensity that it rendered them like burning fire beneath a layer of ice. He was an odd mixture of ice and fire---that was what first came to Haruko's mind.

"Pardon me! I did not mean to stir you from your rest." Said Haruko, hoping that she did not displease him already.

A short silence followed. In her embarrassment she tried again, "My name is Akagi Haruko. I'm traveling with the Akagi group that just came to this village… If I may ask, are you also traveling in the same group?"

The youth re-sheathed his sword in one fluid motion and nodded in reply. Then, upon seeing that daylight had vanished almost completely, he started to walk back to the village.

All excitement from speaking to the youth faded, seeing that he utterly ignored her presence. Although it was only midway through autumn, Haruko felt like standing in the middle of the snowing plateau: quiet, alone, and numb with cold. The disappointment pierced through her like a wintry metal wedge. She could not even go into his field of view.

"Follow me," said the youth.

Haruko widened her eyes.

It was a night she could never forget. The sparse trees suddenly looked much more amiable; the winding road became too short for her liking; the crickets chirped in eurhythmic melodies. And the youth's hand, warmer than she had expected, held her own. As if in this darkness, he was the only light that guided her. He is the only one. She savored this thought.

Even years later, Haruko would remember that time, a warm hand of her first love held hers, and they walked wordlessly through the dying day.

Still she was unable to know his name when they arrived back at the inn. Her servants were worried sick at her absence, and even sent out a few men to search for her. In the jovial chaos of seeing her back, she did not even catch a chance to say thank you to him before he disappeared into the crowd.

It was not until later did she find out his name. "Oh you mean that lad who joined us awhile back? I heard people call him 'Rukawa'---what a rare name!" Replied the coachman.

"Ru-ka-wa…" Haruko repeated syllable by syllable. This must be his surname, she thought, I wish one day I could be close enough to call him by his forename.

"That lad, I heard that he joined us due to lack of traveling fees. The head of the escort group agreed to take him in upon seeing his sword. You know how it is, Miss Haruko, nowadays the bandits are not uncommon and our journey is long. An able hand is more than welcome to help out the party in times of need. But I doubt he can wield a sword properly…"

Haruko absorbed the information in, but instantly filtered the last comment out. She saw it with her own eyes: Rukawa was more than a capable swordsman.

"Haruko! Haruko!"

Haruko blinked; suddenly she was back in her coach again. She gave a heavy sigh and smiled sadly at the only other person in the coach---her childhood friend Fujiko. The latter had grown up with her, and together they shared all the secrets sixteen-year-olds could ever have.

Fujiko knew exactly what her friend was thinking, but being unable to comfort Haruko's wounded heart, she chose to start another topic, hoping to diverge her friend's mind.

It was then the carriage came to an abrupt stop.

"What's going on?" they heard the coachmen call out.

Suddenly people were shouting and screaming all around the coach. Without looking out the carriage, the two girls could guess what had happened. The thing they had been dreading for days had come true---raid of bandits!

Ever since they had started this trip, everyone had half expected that the bandits would not overlook them. Haruko's father and brother both held important militarily positions in the Kainan Empire, and with position, came power and wealth. Due to a recent victory in which they had played a large part against Kainan's long time rival Shoyo, the house of Akagi were rewarded a feoff, a small part of what was once the country of Shohoku. Thirteen years ago Kainan conquered Shohoku, and the land became enclosed within the boundary of its conqueror. Haruko's father and brother had already moved there with most of the family servants to administrate their future residence, and now upon the completion of it, they sent a message to Haruko, bidding her to come. Her brother was planning to accompany her, but had to abandon the plan when their father came down with illness. Knowing the likelihood of running into outlawed bandits in their long journey, he paid a group of professional escorts to protect his seraphic little sister. Still, it would be best if the bandits would overlook them.

Haruko grabbed Fujiko's hands, and realized they were both trembling with fear. There were sounds of sword clashing and shouts of pain from both far and near, and each minute inside the gloomy carriage seemed like a century.

But like the night, its darkness would never be perpetual.

Eventually the fighting ceased; the bandits retreated in defeat. The steward of Akagi house came to Haruko's carriage, and asked her to not come out. "It's a sorry sight to bear. It would be better if you are spared of it, Miss Haruko." Then the escort leader came to report the condition of those injured through fighting, and suggested for the group to rest by the riverside for tending the wounded. The steward agreed.

And by the glimmering river, they rested.

tbc…

Notes on the setting: Males are generally referred to by their last name, except by close friends or by family. Females are called by their first names. Also, surname precedes forename when citing full names.