Dearest Readers,
I hope my message finds you and your loved ones in good health during these challenging times of the COVID-19 pandemic.
Admittedly, I procrastinated with the completion of this tale. Sorry. Call it writer's block. Call it wedding planning until a novel virus swept the globe activating my role in the collective effort to combat this common enemy.
Inwardly, I am fearful of this novel virus that is devastating the young and old, regardless of borders or socioeconomic class. But I am more afraid of the chaos, violence, discrimination that ensues.
My dear readers, I beg YOU do not respond with neither anger nor indifference but with CHANGE. Understanding. RESILIENCE.
I decide to pick up the pen again in hopes that my small, insignificant musings brought to digital life can help YOU through to the light. May this wild story of mine bring YOU joy, smiles, and meaning in these otherwise dark, difficult times.
Love, laughter and kindness is more important now than ever.
Stay home, stay safe.
Be kind.
Be human.
Love always,
Gravism
P.S. Thank you for your unwavering support over the years. Leave me your questions and comments, I'd love to hear from you.
Chapter 22
Absolution
"Build me my grave."
Mitsunari stood at the threshold of Lord Hideyoshi's grave, with Ran kneeling by the altar several paces ahead. A tombstone from polished stone stands before the young woman. Ran places a bouquet of irises by the grave Mitsunari had commissioned; the latter contemplating in silence if his late Lord would accept either tributes given the turn of events.
"Nani?!"
He glances over at the side where a smaller alter stood with fresh inscriptions:
Here lies the final resting place of Princess Toyotomi,
daughter Lord Hideyoshi, born in Owari Province,
died in battle on the 2nd year of the Azuchi-Momoyama jidai.
"Lord Hideyoshi will forgive you," comes her solemn reply, as if hearing his thoughts, "it was my command after all."
A final bow before retreating back to the main path to exit the grave.
"…first and last," she says with a sad, demure smile.
Mtisunari blocks her path. Eyes of steel cutting into her soft brown ones. "You will abandon the Toyotomi?"
An accusation, not a question.
The young woman looks away. "A father I have never known and a world to which I will never belong," her words are a whisper but carry volumes.
"What have I abandoned?"
"You relinquish your birth right bequeathed unto you by Lord Hideyoshi." His sharp reprimand would sting the most stolid soldiers. "Why?"
Slender hands curl into trembling fists inside sleeves of silk she wore.
She had only known memories of her mother and teachings of her sensei. Life was simple prior to encountering him. The code of bushido, instances of violence, revolutionary upheavals- none of them existed before him. She saw blood, insults and injuries- but she stitched them, fixed them and healed them. In an age rife with war, Ran was confident she would emerge unscathed by man's violent squabbles over wealth and power as long as she resided in her quiet hamlet. That is, until her idyllic life was irreparably damaged from the pandemonium that was Ishida Mitsunari.
"I do not desire an empty birth right of an oppressive, bygone empire," she breathes, daring to meet his metal orbs, "especially at the hands of a heartless man who can lie not only to me but to himself."
He is a vestige of an antiquated empire…..
The white-haired youth glares at her. "You-"
"Mitsunari-sama," she bows at the waist and rises to meet his eyes with glistening ones under a cloudy sky, "you have my deepest gratitude for saving my life. I am in debt to you as long as I live..."
…a lamenting, unforgettable trace of the past….
The wind whispers a woeful song in the sea of silence separating them.
His gaze is impassive, belying the immense weight on his chest.
…her past.
She gives him a sad smile, "...farewell."
A swift step echoes off polished stone. "Where are you going?"
Mitsunari is no fool. Fabricating her death may be unconventional and outrageous, but be that as it may, it was also a legitimate absolution of all obligations to the Toyotomi Empire. His duty was to protect- IS to protect her!
"Wherever I wish," the young woman replies, with a brave but empty smile that the young general finds more chilling than last winter's ravage.
With this, he is released from the code of Bushido.
With this freedom, Mitsunari is confined to wordlessly watching her walk away.
With this absolution, he's silently stung seeing her disappear from sight.
"Okakyu-sama, please pardon the wait," a young girl chirps, setting down a variety of dishes before Ran.
Ran thanks her, ignoring the chattering couple across and oblivious to padding feet down corridors.
The O-kiya is as lively as ever, but none of this matters as the young woman murmurs blessings before starting her meal.
She takes a bite, out of posterity rather than hunger and stares out into the raining garden.
The soft patter of rain against stone and grass is a gentle but a sad reminder of the rain at Lord Gamo's compound moments before an almost certain death.
Bitterness assails her palate, and she's unsure if the source lies with her seasonal side dishes or something else.
"Hime-sama?" A voice chirps from behind.
She remembers that voice anywhere and with a sigh turns around to meet its brunette owner.
"Shima-san, please do not trouble yourself with obsolete titles. Ran is fine," the young woman bows. "Such a coincidence seeing you here."
The tall man saunters over and kneels before her, his twin swords clanking on the tatami mat.
"I am taking a break," he gives a cheeky grin that dissolves almost immediately, prompting a cursory perimeter search. "That's right, why are you here?"
Mitsunari should be negotiating treaty terms today with Lord Miyamoto, and although the Southern Flower had no political role, even the sprightly youth knew she shouldn't be in such a questionable place.
She flounders for a reply that is thankfully interrupted by another female.
"Shima-dono, there you are!"
A beautiful woman by the doorway wrapped in a richly embroidered kimono coos. The vibrant bow on the front of her dress confuses Ran, but she returns her eyes to the floor after receiving a derisive glare from the older woman.
Was she the owner of the inn?
"I have been looking all over for you," she drawls with a graceful sweep of her sleeve over the other, "Sakon. It's been so long."
A faint blush colors Ran's cheeks when she hears honorifics dropped. Perhaps she was Shima Sakon's lover?
"Ah, gomen", the young man chuckles, scratching the back of his head, "I will be right over."
With a pout, the older woman saunters away. Her alabaster countenance wrinkles momentarily before withdrawing from the room.
Almost immediately, Ran excuses herself to leave.
"Wait, Princess," he reaches for her arm, "you should not be here. Allow me to escort you back."
Ran shrugs off his hand. "Do NOT call me Hime-sama," she states with conviction that could move an army, "my name is Ran. Just Ran."
The young swordsman held his hands up. "Alright, fine. But please return to the compound-"
"I refuse," her curt reply, punctuated by fixed, brown pupils.
"Mitsunari-sama will be worried should you stay," the mischievous youngster offers with an exasperated sigh, "care to wager that?"
A dull heaviness drops in her stomach as she turns away. "He will not care," her voice, barely a whisper.
He's silent for a moment before gathering his weapon and standing up. "Stay here as you wish," his voice serious, "but Ran-dono, you will lose this wager. I will have Mitsunari-sama come fetch you."
She scrunches the side of her kimono. "Leave me be."
Mitsunari is meditating on the edges of Biwa lake, shortly before the concluding negotiations with Lord Miyamoto. A new era rises from ashes of the last, beckoning a different infrastructure in its wake. The times were changing for the Land of the Rising Sun, and Mitsunari will see to its alignment, albeit piece by piece- province by province to stronger Order.
His mind ebbs and flows with transient thoughts of today's events in the background of rippling water. Old ends and new beginnings.
A slight grimace.
Although he did not agree with assisting in the fabrication of her death, he agreed to aid her because there was no foreseeable detriment to the Toyotomi name. Yes, there was no shame, no infringements upon the Code of Bushido.
He inhales deep.
Why the sole heir to the Toyotomi empire decides to disinherit herself, he would never know. He did know however, the one constant in the rivers of his musing had been her sad smile as she bid him farewell.
A distant splash resonates her sad smile across the calm waters of his mind.
There was an inconceivable finality to her words and it left a deep wound in his chest that no slash of steel could compare. Of course it was preposterous; she was a Toyotomi. She could not possibly…leave. Not with all the privileges, protection and compensation she earned from her servitude to him and his army. Absolute nonsense, she could not- WOULD not leave. No civilian post exists for a healer of her caliber. He nods inwardly but finds his mind far from placid.
She renounced the Toyotomi name.
By all convention she was free to leave.
Right?
A growing rustle severs the general's contemplation, followed by footsteps and a bellowing cry.
"Mitsunari-sama! Mitsunari-sama!"
"The entire province knows of your arrival, Shima Sakon", Mitsunair breathes nasally from his seated position.
"Taihen da!" His flamboyant protégé sprints over, arms in the air.
"The War Council is soon to convene; you have your orders." He snaps at the youth with a gesture of his hand.
"General," he halts, falling into a messy genuflection before Mitsunari, "Ran-dono…"
A cacophony erupts in the main hall as Ran pays the innkeeper, a portly middle-aged man with pipe. Drunken laughter echoes across nearby rooms with an occasional eruption of unbridled guffaws.
He inquires if she is alone and meets her with a dubious stare when the young woman nods silently. She was pretty, too pretty to belong in these parts of town.
"Do you wish for me to call an escort?" He offers, tapping his pipe into a tray.
Ran politely declines, just as salacious banter bounces around outside halls. Her ears bleed as she immediately excuses herself.
Her pace is silent, swift, and evidence enough of her intentions to leave before Shima Sakon's return to this, odd establishment.
Ran rounds a corner with bordering stairs identical to its predecessors. This is one of the biggest inns-
"You are beautiful," interrupts a baritone voice.
She raises her head to meet a middle-aged man before her.
"Pardon me," Ran murmurs side-stepping to excuse herself.
"Namae wa nan da?" He saunters over, with an unsteady gait and Ran's throat runs dry.
She spins around, only to have his fleshy arm, draped in layers of gold silk slam across the wall before she can cross.
"Kirei na," he slurs, fuming the tiny corridor with the stale stench of sake.
Her eyes grow wide as he seizes her wrist.
"Come.."