My New Year's Gift to you! 3
Please standby for after-story memo and air-kisses! Happy reading!
Chapter 2
Remnants
Ran never imagined death to be so dark. And light. Then dark. And then warm.
…warm?
"You're awake," a female voice bounces off the walls as Ran feels her eyes aflutter. Her vision like a newborn's, sensitive only to evanescing silhouettes beyond the chamber.
"…"
Her eyes hurt against the fluttering sun. The world but a blur of soft shapes and smudges of color from dancing bamboo outisde.
"Yokata," the older woman breathes, the lines on her face softening. "The Heavens know mercy!"
"I- I-" she chokes through a disused voice as the older woman helps her sit up.
"We thought you left us forever," her weathered hand reaches Ran's cheek, "the blood! Oh, you were so pale, but thank goodness for Iroha Sensei efforts that you were still breathing by the end of the night."
A cloudy grey perches over the roof. Her eyes close. Ah. So had she.
Yes, she remembers now, moments before the darkness. The smoky smell of smoldering embers. A frigid rain. Bitter lies cutting her deeper than any sword. A moment of silence worth more than all of the gold in Japan. Then, the penultimate crimson heat…
Ran opens her eyes. Heat radiates over her shoulder as the clouds lift. The afternoon sunlight dances past open shoji eyes linger over lulling irises in the garden beyond her chambers. But this is not her garden, nor is this her chamber.
"You are safe," Tschiyo offers, inspecting her shoulder before rewrapping her loosen kimono. "We are in Lord Gamo's compounds, and please do not strain yourself."
"….Gamo?"
Her attempts to stand are promptly squelched by the older woman's firm hands.
"You are safe," her soft voice repeats. "Drink this."
She shakes her head in refusal; a terrible idea since it triggers a wave of dizziness sending her onto the futon.
A gasp escapes the other woman, as she cradles Ran's head against her chest.
"Ran-dono, I understand you are ambitious to leave, but I assure you without Iroha Sensei's consent, you will remain here."
Ran mouthed wordlessly to her.
"Very well," Tschiyo sighs, "but you promise to rest after."
The younger woman nods wordlessly.
Tschiyo steadies her to a sitting position. "When you were poisoned, Mitsunari rode to Iroha-sensei's dwelling overnight for the antidote. During his travels, he saved a woman whom giving birth from assassins."
Tschiyo holds her hand. "The woman he saved was Princess Ue, daughter of Lord Gamo, whom initially sent the assailants to terminate future heirs and consolidate his rule. Despite their marriage, her husband, Miyamoto Akira abhorred Lord Gamo's crimes against humanity, and amassed a supporting army of 40,000 men. A coup d'é·tat was in progress the day Mitsunari came to your rescue."
Her brows furrowed. "Miyamoto-sama executed Lord Gamo during the invasion with a subsequent intention to indiscriminately annihilate the entire Gamo compound and its inhabitants. Sakichi knew to save you from this fate, he would inevitable lose his army fighting against Miyamoto-sama."
Ran withdraws her hands with downcast eyes. Why? Why was she sleeping soundly at the gravesite of so many men-HIS men!
She whispers words weighing mountains on her heart. "I am sorry".
Weathered, warm hands reach for young cold ones. "No need for apologies. Instead, imagine two armies on the brink of war, hours later abruptly dissolved by a miraculous armistice," Tschiyo continues with an amused shake of her head.
Her jaw goes slack, but the older woman strokes her hair affectionately.
" Shortly after Miyamoto-sama executed Lord Gamo, he received a courier whom rode tirelessly for two days from his wife, Princess Ue, and immediately announced a ceasefire with Sakichi's army. He sent his fastest horses to fetch Iroha Sensei for your injury. Your accommodations including my summoning here were personally allocated by Miyamoto-sama."
"…I don't understand," her voice still hoarse with disuse.
Tschiyo cradles Ran's face in her hand. "Of course you do," she replies, walking towards the shoji doors. "Ran-dono, you know more than anyone the immeasurable value of kindness and benevolence."
"I am a burden," her quiet rebuttal.
"You are not a burden." Her caretaker's smile is as warm as the melting sun outside.
"I have raised Sakichi since childhood. I would have raised Sakichi to be a fine man, had it not been my utmost duty to raise a samurai. Brave, loyal, dutiful- he is a samurai without equal. I am aware of his reputation, and even I cannot imagine his aiding a stranger. Only you know what influenced his stroke of kindness, and perhaps only you can explain his rare act of mercy that prevented a war. "
The young lady sits motionless, gazing at the garden of irises fluttering in the dark. Irises that look oddly similar to ones at home.
Tschiyo catches her gaze. "Sakichi had them planted here to replicate your garden," she chimes in; her swift alacrity countered by stagnant indifference.
"I would like to rest please, Tschiyo-san," Ran's solemn reply, "thank you for the story."
Her heart sinks and she turns to leave. "….I will bring you dinner, and Iroha Sensei will come by to tend your wound."
A long sigh as Tschiyo reaches the threshold. "They say a good woman can change a man," a sliding of a shoji doors, "but I believe, you, Ran-dono, can change a demon."
Later in the evening, Iroha-sensei visits with a tray of her favorite food.
"Ran, why do you work when you ought to be resting?" He chides, setting the tray down and joining her at the desk.
She grinds the ink with one hand while another sets parchment. "I have rested enough. It is only natural I perfect my knowledge to further your expertise as an apprentice."
"You are my only apprentice, and brighter than the sun. See why I only need one?" He chuckles, stroking his beard, "why don't I tend to your wound?"
"Iroha-sensei, thank you for your kindness but there is no need. My wound is healing well, with minimal bleeding. I changed the bandages moments prior to your arrival," she replied, dabbing the brush with ink.
He nods with glee while she writes. "How astute you are. Then, care for dinner? You must be famished!"
"You are too kind sensei, coming to care for my wound and catering meals," comes his apprentice's answer, without pausing between brush strokes.
Iroha-sensei places a hand on her forearm, a quick dissolution of his jovial self. "Ran, you need to eat. Enough with your writing, you need to heal."
More than just physically…
Scripted characters continue to flow onto parchment, a formulated rehearsal that perform without cue since childhood. "I am not hungry," she murmurs, re-inking her brush to produce another totem of characters.
"You will not starve and waste time writing formulas you've known since age five," he commands, hand slamming on the desk. "That day, it was Kami-sama who save you, not I. Medicine is no miracle, and there certainly is no medicine for a heavy heart."
He still recalls the day Nene, dropped off the bright-eyed girl at his shop with a large sum of gold and a clandestine request to raise her as his own. Ran was chubby, short then; tippy-toeing to peek at his workstation and despite spilling rare elixirs and releasing his prized horse, was helpful and immediately won his heart. She had an affinity for medicine on account of her diligence, patience, and intelligence. He had no doubt Ran was to be a beautiful lady, taking after her mother, but he did not foresee her having a sharp mind to match it.
Ran lays a completed formula on the floor to dry, immediately resuming her script. "…"
Sadly, he also would never have predicted she would yearn for the affections of a caustic and calloused General. This illness of hers, with great reluctance, he concedes defeat.
"Do you wish to see him?"
"I do not know." She continues without missing a stroke, instead her speed increases. "A lot has happened, Iroha-sensei."
Her stomach is a steel ball hanging by a thread over the great abyss. From the prison rescue, compound escape, arquebus firings, field massacre, bitter confession and finally her injury, everything feels surreal.
Perhaps when light became dark I should have died. I find an odd comfort in the finality of death, free from conjecture, doubt and deception.
Her shoulder tinges with pain. Ah. Except she is alive with a painful, physical reminder no less. The thread and ball still hangs intact, unpredictable.
"It is a miracle you are alive. Do not squander this life, for there will be no next," he advised, heading to the hallway.
Next?
She grimaces.
How can she fathom the next life when she could barely manage the remnants of this one?
"That rascal has come to see you everyday and the first day of your awakening you refuse to see him?" The old man shoots her an incredulous gaze.
Her eyes cast down. "…if Mitsunari-sama agrees, who am I to decline his audience?"
He chuckles. If the Minister of Misfortune wills anything on so much as a whim, did she sincerely believe there was ANYONE on this earth who could deny him? But alas, some musings were better kept unsaid.
"Suppose he comes here at my request, would you eat?"
"…do I have a choice?" She counters, laying down another completed parchment.
The moon hangs high bathing the garden in silver when he arrives.
"Spare me the formalities," he waves off her attempt to bow, seating himself before her desk by candlelight. "Iroha and Tschiyo say you are not eating."
Ran reaches for her brush.
"Mitsunari-sama, I prefer to practice my medicine. When I was a child, Iroha-sensei gave me a manual with hundreds of formulas and challenged me to learn them. The five hundred or so formulas I spent countless nights memorizing, now bring me peace."
"Soldiers perform their sword kata, minutes prior to assembling for their first charge," he informs her, crossing his arms, "mundane routines bring order and tranquility to chaos."
Instinctually her hand orchestrates a dance of ink above a white background.
Dry ginger for circulation…
"I am told your merciful rescue of Princess Ue," she muses.
"You are not eating. Explain yourself," comes his iron command as his O-dachi sets with a soft clack against the tatami mat.
Powdered Coptis to tranquil the mind…
"Mitsunari-sama your selfless act prevented a war. The city sings praises of-"
"Do not worship me as a hero!" He barks, fist against the floor.
"Do not think yourself a villain," comes her quiet counter, hand re-inking brush on stone.
Crushed peony detoxifies blood…
"You've no idea who I am," the corrosive General snaps.
Once, there was a meek girl who would cower before the General of the Western army. Her hand continues to weave characters without pause. She was obedient, docile, kind but unsuitable for the turbulent, bloody Sengoku epoch, and as fate would have it she perished in the flames of war.
"Much has happened since Miyamoto-sama's coup d'état," Ran starts in a measured tone, "I know there is an armistice."
Silence. Ran inhales deeply, summoning words she had repeated throughout the night alone in her study.
Sliced ginger for…
"And I know I should have died as well," she states, her hand perched on the parchment's edge and poised to complete the last ingredient of the script.
"It should have been I who suffered in your stead, forgive my incompetence," Mitsunari replies, bowing before her.
Ran stutters.
Sliced ginger for what?
Her hand suspends above paper, frozen by an unrelenting storm. Her heart sends emotional waves crashing against her mind's stalwart boulders. Only Kami-sama would know which would prevail, but not even Kami-sama could recall for her the formula she could once recite in sleep.
If I can't recall the formula, then I will have to start anew.
Subconsciously, one of her hands reaches for the folds of her kimono, only to realize her mother's keepsake has disappeared.
Ran sets her brush down.
If I no longer have okasan's omarmori, then I will be strong without it.
She looks at Mitsunari genuflecting before her, and the mantle of incomplete ambitions he chose to inherit from her late father.
If I can't go back...then I will go forward.
Ran inhales sharply. "You are retainer of the late Lord Toyotomi Hideyoshi."
The Western General raises his head. "Ah."
"IF I am the daughter of Lord Toyotomi, as you claim Mitsunari-san, Toyotomi-hime" she supposes, "then do you serve me by association?"
"Hime-sama, your word is my command," Mitsunari nods.
She lays her final piece of parchment on the ground. "Please do one thing for me."
""Speak and it shall be done," he declares, placing his sword before her.
She gives him a small, empty smile and the softness of her eyes are still there, but hollow with melancholy.
"Build me my grave."
Thank you for reading! *hugs and kisses* Feedback is greatly appreciated! Goodness, it took me days to write this after shaking off the dust and disuse, but so glad to wrap up this year with update for this story and Ieyasu's!
I apologize for my extended absence. During these two years, I changed jobs, traveled to 6 countries in one year, a couple more in the next year while maintaining a full time position, and got ENGAGED! Some of may wonder- Gravism is your fiance like Mitsunari? LOL! I can only blush.
No one is like Mitsunari No one loves Mitsunari like Ran, and that is the gist these last few chapters. There is strength in kindness to love even the most unpleasant person, and perhaps even enough to change him. Reality isn't the same, but have faith it's not all too different.
We can always dream of tall, dark and handsome bad-asses, because despite our fantasy we may actually chance upon them in life. And we can always strive to be kind without expectation of return. Such is my hope for the New Year. Love and kindness. Kisses and Cheers!
Thanks to my reviewers:
FAith: guess who is back? so glad to be showered by your enthusiasm.
MagatsuIza: lol we have our answer- She "died".
MangoTango: your welcome, thank you for support
Uh no thanks: I adore your username. Yes I'm waiting for their kiss too. They need to get it together.
majestie: thanks and please share! Fantasy is a priceless freedom.
Anime hotty lover.18 : agreed, I would be running for the hills crying (TT^TT)
Coolcat0720 : yes, we would ALL like them to get it on already haha.
XionNight : so good to hear from you again! yes I know, but no one queues for a flat roller coaster hehe. thanks for understanding writing takes time 3
Mordse: yes painful, and yes, she's ok. But which form of "ok"? hmmm