Raven Haired Sakura

Part Three

Another thanks to The Goth Witch for translations. Keep in mind that most of the time during this section people are speaking Japanese. But since I know very little, I'll be typing their dialog in English. I'll emphasize important points in Japanese, but will be translated immediately following. You're smart kids, you'll figure it out.

…

The earth was just beginning to cool under his feet when they started to get ready to leave. The winds had picked up, ruffling banners and tossing the fabrics the women were folding. Ueno turned and faced the sun, watching the tents and his partners work out of the corner of his eye.

He loved China. The sandy wind pulled through his hair and the ground beneath him always responded to every misstep. He had watched his children play enough along the boundaries of their camp to know that that the earth would hold their foot prints and tumbling hand prints for years and years to come. The earth would remember them… long after they were gone.

The sun didn't look like it was ready to rise. The dark blue was terribly uneager to disappear into golds and whites. The sky seemed to disagree with the morning. Ueno had left his tent early that morning, careful not to wake his family. The wind brushed him as he basked in what would be a hot morning, when the sun wasn't showing its weak side.

His gently slanted eyes had observed his family as one by one they pulled themselves from sleep. Dear Brother had come first, rolling on his hands and marking the earth with the line of his back. The boy seemed to sing in the sunlight, he was so natural in it. It was his act and if flowed from him like the whistle of rolling water.

It had surprised Ueno how well the people of China had opened up to him and his band. They were a group of Japanese performers going through the country side taking business from Chinese performers, but they were good at it so the spectators didn't seem to mind. He was glad that his wife and his children and their band had fit in as well as they did, if they hadn't, their mission would have been much more difficult.

It was quite the elaborate act: each member of their team pulled a different string to make the marionette dance. His wife's grace made her a dancer that any man would stop to watch. It didn't hurt that she was beautiful. His son had inherited her fair frame but his father's strength and proved to be the best acrobat of the team, even at the tender age of nine. The boy seemed to spend more of his time tumbling than walking.

But now, his son stood beside him, sinking his toes into the earth. Sakuja and Asuka pulled the tent down and said nothing of the absence of the men helping. Sakuja's back was a strong as any man's, though the girl was barely eleven. True balance, coming too from her mother, was the key to her martial arts. Every night some foolish man would take Sakuja's challenge for a fight. The girl never lost, never took it easy on anyone who stood to her, thinking they could take her down. Her kung fu made her valuable, her pretty face made her deadly.

Sakuja's form and Dear Brother's grace came from Asuka, the woman Ueno had loved and married and sired with. Asuka's dance made men's tongues slide from their mouth and secrets fall from their pockets. Had Asuka not been such a strong woman, he would have felt bad about they way she was used.

By day, Ueno was the patriarch of his traveling band. His banner weaved against the heavens every night and day, prouder than most Gods would have allowed: A white topped summit; a hopping robin perched with its wings spread; the wind hustled across its shoulders and in its wing; and a cherry blossom in its talon. He was the summit; Asuka the wind, Sakuja held her name and Dear Brother was the image of the Matsuhiro family crest. His family, his morning glory, flew above the heads of all the men who served him, above all the men who would give their lives for him… when the time came.

The guise lasted much longer than they needed it to. No one seemed to question the traveling band's story: being forced from their home Japan because they could not please an emperor with their skills. The people of the eastern coast were all too willing to believe that the emperor could be satisfied with nothing less than their bodies. They had fled to China and marched up the coast, inward enough to hear stories and break bread, but far away enough that the people in the village did not speak of those who came to their land to steal their secrets¹. Their weapons stayed well hidden, their armors always packed away tightly and their mission was across their minds, where no one else could see.

His band consisted of nine. Of them, Feng Law, was the man he trusted most. Feng Law would be the one who told Dear Brother the truth, if their mission was not successful. If their mission failed, he was sure that only Feng Law would survive.

Matsuhiro Ueno was sent from his homeland in pursuit of No-al. No-al was a hunt so devious, so destructive and powerful that it would have taken a million men and a thousand years for most agents to find and assault him: it had taken Ueno twelve years and six men to start.

A woman's voice drove Ueno and Dear Brother from their hold on the land. Ueno turned to his son, the boy was already running to Sakuja's side. Ueno couldn't tell if he was truly making the right decision… if he could leave Dear Brother behind.

Sakuja rolled the last of the tent material and tied it back, shaking her pony tails before facing Dear Brother.

"Onii-kun. Otou-san wa kotoba oboeru desuka." (Dear Brother, do you remember what father told us?)

"Itsumo tatsu." (Always stand.)

Sakuja patted the younger boy's hair before the pair turned to their mother. Asuka nodded and the group began the final treks to the caves of Ledona. The band marched silently. By the end of the night some of them would be dead. Dear Brother would see death for the first time, but whose face he'd see couldn't be known. Sakuja watched her Dear Brother run ahead and begin his tumbles, practicing his art as often as she did. Her Xing Yi² could not fail her tonight: if her elbows crumbled, if her bones failed for a moment, if her wrists could not take the charge of her hiraikotsu if only for that instance, she would be dead. At eleven she knew what would become of her if she let the mistakes of childhood claim her. The end of her life did not scare her as much as what it would mean for Dear Brother.

The camp forded through sand and earth like an army of thousands rather than nine. For every year of his life, there was a person Dear Brother held in memory. Father, mother, sister, Feng Law, Masa, Seiko, Fujimi, Aoshi and Kenosuke on his smallest finger. Mother had held him in her arms late into the night last night, explaining to him what the next day meant. Sakuja sat, as brave as she could, watching Dear Brother as if memorizing his face. Father turned his weapon in his hand, flexing his skill. He was like some god, draped in vibrant armor; scars from battle marred his face. The night they were heading to would scar his heart.

That night seemed to last a much longer time than the few hours. The room was darkened and a husband held his wife and two siblings curled into the shape of the other. Dear Brother turned in his sleep and pulled his forehead from Sakuja's lips, the girl turned to her side as well. Had she been awake, she would have cried.

The cave of Ledona came into view earlier than they had planned. All the men stopped and witnessed the place that would be graves for some of them. For all their skills, for their hearts and brotherhood… their bodies could be crushed, and some would be, at the hands of No-al.

They did not set a fire; they barely thought to unroll their packs. They put up one tent to stand, a place for Dear Brother to wait. They slipped into their armor in total silence. No man looked at a woman and the women could not turn their eyes from the sashes that held their guards. A swallow was sharpened, a spear grabbed and a hiraikotsu was clutched in fingers so tight that blood ran from half moon shaped scars. Dear Brother refused to see the fear in the eyes of his family. He had lived amongst these men his entire life. They had waved colored bands at him, giving him a goal to reach for as he stumbled the path to walking. They had pointed out children from the villages for him to play with, they had taught him to speak and fight and be a man. How many times had Aoshi saved him from drowning? How often did Masa share his wine with him and how often had Seiko covered up the evidence when he vomited? These men were his brothers, and he was the youngest of them, the one dearest to their hearts.

At first he had resented the handle and demanded they called him by his name. But when his mother did, he sometimes forgot to respond to it. Dear Brother sat and waited. Soon they started to file, one by one by one. Sakuja fell in line with Aoshi and Feng Law, weak as glass and willing to fight even as the fear clutched her. Dear Brother had been told to stand back, to watch them walk away. But he couldn't. It never occurred to him that this might be the last time he'd see these men.

His father stood in front and his mother beside him, ready to fight together like some heroic Paris and Helen of Troy. "Otou! Okaa!" Dear Brother called and ran to his parents. "Father. Mother."

Asuka dropped to her knees and looked into the eyes of her son. It was like a mirror almost, the same colors, the same shape, everything about the boy reminded her of herself. Asuka smiled at her son even as he remained stone faced. Ueno kept perfectly still, his voice barked like the hounds of hell.

"Itsumo tatsu!" (Always stand.)

Asuka rose, her fingers gently sweeping over her son's face. Dear Brother stared at her, wanting an explanation. He had felt her, writing something with just a touch against his cheek. How could I forget to fly?³

They marched away from Dear Brother, no man brave enough to give him one last look. They could not afford to lose their resolve. Dear Brother watched them until they disappeared into the cave of Ledona. And he waited. Memories of his family flew over his eyes like the wings of that great bird in the Matsuhiro crest.

Dear Brother knew he shouldn't have gone inside, they had told him to wait. But the moment he thought about the crest, he knew he couldn't stay behind. Inside that cave, they were fighting incomplete. There were four people standing together on that crest, but inside that cave, there was only three. His blood was in there and he would be no brother to them, if he didn't fight.

Dear Brother found a spare spear and tied guards around his shin and arms. The chest guards were too large; he strapped a leg guard flat against his breast and tied it as tight as he could manage. He was going in, unprepared and under armored, but he was going in.

He would carry with him forever the mistake he had made. In his nightmares Dear Brother would remember the bodies, the blood that flowed like rivers from the wounds in Fujumi's back.

He would find that his biggest nightmare would come from the shadows running against the walls. He had lost the path, the footprints were scattered at a cliff, they had all taken off into a run. Each step, in its own design, seemed to lead deeper into the cave. And that was where Dear Brother went. Along a jagged path, the ground beneath him opened up and dropped him some twenty feet below. He rolled, tucking his body against itself to protect his head from the rocks below. His body finally slowed down and he found himself as deep into the cave as he could go. He had found the shadows of the fight with No-al. Dear Brother heard the sound of the hiraikotsu whipping through the air. The shadow of the thing wrapped around the walls. Dear Brother couldn't seem to find a safe path and was forced to watch the walls as the battle against No-al raged on.

He heard yells. He heard Feng Law's bangled armor shake and wave. And he heard Sakuja cry out and the hiraikotsu skidding off the ground. He could hear the swing of his father's spear and the double edged swallow that his mother parried with. But he heard absolutely no sound from No-al and that scared him more than anything.

Dear Brother heard a yell and in that moment turned his head upwards and saw them, both of them falling from the cliff like rocks towards the ocean. Their arms did not flail, they did not call out in fear, their eyes did not see the end of their fall. Dear Brother watched, the shadows blocking their features, but the silhouettes would forever stay with him⁴.

The slight boy crawled to where their bodies landed. He didn't want to look. He didn't want to know which names were being added to his prayers. "Otou… Okaa…" A scream erupted over head. Dear Brother could barely see from his tear blurred vision, but he made his way to the cliff base and began to climb. Sakuja had screamed. She was hurt. Dear Brother didn't know what he could do, but he would do something. His fingers clawed into the dirt, ripping tiny vines away from the soil. His feet sunk in tightly to the jagged steps the wall presented. It was seven story climb to the top. Dear Brother would make it to the fourth when his footing collapsed and he tumbled back towards the death shrine of the summit and the wind.

…

Dear Brother woke up, sitting on blankets yards away from any place he wanted to see. His eyes hurt, but it was not difficult to see. Aoshi and Masa were alive, carrying two others that weren't. Those bodies were laid down beside Fujumi's in a line of great men. Dear Brother stumbled to his feet. Aoshi and Masa raised a funeral blanket to cover them.

"Yamero!"(Stop!) Dear Brother screamed as he ran towards them. They didn't listen. Masa pulled the last few inches of deep maroon cloth over Matsuhiro Asuka, Matsuhiro Ueno and Sato Fujumi. Dear Brother trembled as the cloth lay perfectly still. They aren't breathing…they aren't…

Feng Law was the last to exit the cave. He saw Dear Brother, shaking as the life he knew fell apart around him. His halo of reality was tarnished now and what Feng Law would tell him would not make things better.

"Kenosuke ikuzo" (Let's go.)

Dear Brother's eyes widened at Feng Law's statement. He turned to scream, to throw rocks, to ball is fists into his chest, but instead he froze and saw what Feng Law knew already. Cradled in his arms, was a precious charge… her face was slack, but pain was evident in the tenseness of her upper body. Her hair was frenzied, her eyes closed, cheeks bloody and bruised… and she was breathing.

"Sakuja… Is she?"

Feng Law looked over the young boy. Aoshi and Masa sat on their knees waiting their commands. "Make a funeral fire. Kenosuke ikuzo." Feng Law marched slowly, holding Sakuja in his arms as her brother followed behind them. Feng Law laid Sakuja on the only blanket the last of the Matsuhiro's had thought to lay out. Feng Law's battered chest quaked with his breath. He would have to wait until Sakuja woke up to tell them the truth.

Six days past. The boy they used to call Dear Brother sat still for six days waiting for Sakuja to wake up. At the end of the first day, the funeral fire blazed across the sky like a ribbon. The nine year old legacy of the Matsuhiro family had watched from the door of the tent; his parents' ashes flew into the wind, dancing with as much grace as their bodies had in life. In the back of his mind, he recalled the cave of Ledona hiding itself again behind the funeral flames. The cave sunk and shrank away from his sight, taking with it the beast he would kill if the cave ever resurfaced. No-al had escaped, Feng Law had told him. Why No-al had fled Feng Law did not know.

Feng Law told him what happened. How No-al's power had grown. How Sakuja's back had been crushed in a moment of weakness and how Matsuhiro Ueno and Matsuhiro Asuka had fallen before No-al. The nine year old boy did not need to be told of what had become of his parents.

On the seventh day, Sakuja woke up. Her brown eyes were unfocused and her throat hoarse as she begged for water. She coughed violently and turned a frightened eye to her younger brother when she realized she couldn't account for her legs. She stared down at her body and found they were still there. What… what has happened? Her fingers crept across her spine and she remembered in moment of clarity: her parents, No-al, her stupid rage, an elbow crashing into her spine. No-al had broken her with a single blow.

Sakuja was propped up with her brother's support, her long hair waving down her back, her bed robes clutched to her chest when Feng Law began to tell them the truth.

"Fifteen years ago, Matsuhiro Ueno, came to me and asked my help. He told me that he was looking for No-al and knew that I had history with him. I told him, even with my help, No-al was not a man that he could defeat."

Sakuja's throat tightened. Flashes of that night, No-al's hideous mask haunted her. Her brother waited, perfectly still.

"He told me that he would gather his best men and I told him his best would not be good enough, but I picked up my sword and I went with him. We had been traveling through China for nearly four years, when another specialist, a woman fighter who had been living in America, joined us."

"A woman fighter?"

"Her name was Suzuki Asuka. And with her she brought a five month old baby girl."

"Mother?"

"Sakuja?"

Feng Law turned his head for a moment and wondered if he had to tell them everything. He did… he had made a promise to a very good man.

"Ueno and Asuka fell in love and wed before having their first child toge-"

"Masaka!" (Impossible!) His young lungs pinched with his fury. His face was unable to hide his rage. His fingers sunk into Sakuja's bed robe. The older girl refused to feel the pain. She swallowed and waited. How much more of her life could be broken in such a short time? Her body, her parents and now her history? She waited, while her brother raged behind her.

Feng Law raised a hand to silence the boy and he did, though he refused to face his guardian. "If we had never found No-al, we would have never told you. But Ueno made me promise to erase Matsuhiro Sakuja. I am to take you to your father, who will raise you as he sees fit."

"No! You can't take her away."

"I will go." Sakuja whispered. Her brother stood frozen, hands turned to ice against her body. He could say nothing. "I will go, if I can bring Dear Brother with me."

It was the first time he had heard that name in the weeks since the fight against No-al. Aoshi or Seiko had often almost called him Dear Brother but caught themselves. The remaining camp felt the same sense of disunion and no one dared to remind themselves that they had once been three and a half men stronger.

"I have contacted your father and he is prepared to take in your brother as well. He only asks that I tell you the name he had given you with your mother before she brought you here."

"Yes."

"To him… you are Sakura Chloe Wayne."

End of Part Three

¹ I really couldn't think of a better way to say that Ueno's band tried to gain information without being noticed.

² For anyone who is curious, Xing Yi is a fighting style that Julia Chang/Wang Jinrey use in Tekken 5.

³ Asuka told Dear Brother "Don't forget to fly".

⁴ I REALLY liked how Robin's background was shown in Haunted. I wanted to keep the image as close to that as possible.

Five points to anyone who caught where I threw in Robin's real name.