4.
The aroma of cooking food, and the murmuring of a low conversation caused Kotaro to arouse from his slumbers. That and Tobimaru wriggling out from underneath the comforter. The dog then begged Hira to open up the amaro shutters to let him outside.
Kotaro sat up, rubbing at his eyes, breathing in the smell of the food and yawned. Then he stopped and stared. Next to his bed was a small stack of clothes. Actually they were his clothes, cleaned and dried. He blinked in sleepy incomprehension for a moment then looked over at Nanashi.
Hira was resettling him on his side, facing the fire, wrapping his arms around the pillow. He looked positively grey, and his eyes appeared bruised. He never opened them, just letting out a soft moan, once she had him shifted into a new position. There was a slight catch in his breathing. Hira murmured something in his ear, then pulled the comforter back up over him. He did not respond.
"Nanashi?" the boy asked, still palming one eye. Hira looked up at him, briefly resting the backs of her fingers on the man's forehead.
"Good morning," she said to him. Kotaro just blinked, then looked around for his dog.
"He needed to go out," Hira said as she slowly climbed to her feet. "I'm assuming your dog has a name?"
"Tobimaru..." Kotaro muttered still looking at Nanashi anxiously. Hira could see the look directed towards him.
"He's resting as best as he can. He's going to be sleeping a lot for the next few days. He's a sick man."
"Days?" Kotaro asked.
"Yes, his fever is high," she said, kneeling back down between the fire and the chabudai. "He needs to be able to fight off the infection he's got from those wounds." She glanced over what was cooking, then over at the half awake boy. "For him to do that he needs sleep and rest and quiet."
She smiled at the boy. "Wake up, sleepy. Go clean yourself up and you can have breakfast. Then, we can go and take the ducks down to the pond."
Food being the great motivator, Kotaro clumsily got up and obeyed. Once he dressed and neatened up his bed, he sat with his bowl of food, tucking in with a youngsters never ending appetite. Tentatively he ventured to ask, "Why do you live so far away from the village? If you're a healer, wouldn't you want to be closer to people?"
Hira, sitting across the irori from the boy, had Nanashi's fringed, haori robe in her lap and was applying a needle and thread to it. She glanced up at the boy. "This is my home. This is where I stay. The villagers know that if they have a serious enough ailment or injury, they can come to me for treatment. Otherwise I won't waste my time or skills on those who just want someone to lavish attention on them. The apothecaries and healers in town can do those people."
"But what if someone can't get to you?"
"I can -and do- go to them in such cases, but I do not stay in the village. It is a mutual arrangement."
"But why?"
"That, is not for a boy to trouble himself with."
"I'm not stupid!" Kotaro protested.
"I never implied you were, oh, impetuous one. Some things are just best left in the past and not to be troubled with. The village and I have a nice working arrangement. We barter and trade for services or pay. It works nicely. I don't wish to disturb that. Besides, I'm a very particular kind of healer. So, finish cleaning that bowl out, and I can show you the pond. If you like you can fish too. There's trout and carp in it. You might even catch something for your servant, there..." She left that one hanging.
"He's..." Kotaro paused, "He's not really my servant... not any more."
"Ah..." Hira said softly, knotting the thread for a seam she had repaired then neatly bit the thread in two. She prepared to work on a new spot.
"He is my friend though."
"I thought as much. Enough of one that you rode a very long way to get him here."
Kotaro looked abashed. "Yeah, well he... he helped me."
"And so you are helping him."
"We're going to travel! We're going to go to a foreign country. Get away from these Ming." There was enough acrimony in the last word to tell exactly how the boy felt about them.
"Are you now?" Hira asked, raising an eyebrow, shifting Nanashi's robe around, hunting out a hole to repair. "That will be a great expense."
"We're going to hire out as bodyguards," The boy continued. "He's going to teach me how to use a sword. He's really good!"
"Teach you? That might be a bit of a problem considering his katana is useless now..." Hira pointed out.
Kotaro looked dejected. "We'll just have to come up with some ryo to buy a new one."
Hira paused, threading the needle she held and studied the boy a moment. "There could be ways around that," she said to him. She stuck her needle in near the next hole to repair and gathered the robe up, setting it on the chabudai. Rising to her feet, she said. "Come on!"
Though the house was opulent by most standards, Hira's home was not surrounded by luscious gardens. Something Kotaro actually expected to see, having been raised in temples where the gardens were normally immaculate. Hira's were strictly utilitarian. She grew as many of her vegetables and herbs herself, explaining to the boy that anything she couldn't grow, she either hunted down or bartered for them.
The grounds swept out and away, formerly a meadow, with one section, leading to the pond actually in steppes for growing rice. A stream ran alongside it, her source of water, feeding the pond and meandering its way from there down the foothills. She led the boy to the barn, letting both their horse and her own small, rotund pony out into a nearby pasture. She opened up the chicken coop, then gathered a small pan of feed and went over to where the ducks were housed.
"Now, they are imprinted on me, and will follow me where ever I like. However, once they know that you have this," she held the feed up, "They'll follow you down to the pond. Did you tend ducks at the temple you lived at?"
Kotaro paused, seeing the enormous goose taking up a solitary stance in front of the duck house. He stretched his long neck up, eyeing them with a beady black eye, the knob on its forehead looking hard and painful, should he decide to use it... Tobimaru promptly began to growl.
"I uh, did, for a little while." Kotaro replied reluctantly. Hira glanced at him, as the goose began to puff itself up.
"Gacho!" Hira snapped at the bird. Almost immediately it began a protesting honk. Hira just pointed at the path behind them. "Gacho! Go!"
Lifting its head higher and looking at them in disdain, the big bird waddled imperiously past them, giving the dog the evil eye as it marched sedately back around the front of the house.
"He's mean!" Kotaro remarked.
"And that is precisely his function. He guards the cemetery and the path. Let's me know in plenty of time if anyone is coming."
"So that's how you knew we were here last night..." Kotaro said as she was greeted by a quacking, chirping chorus of ducks upon letting them out.
"I would say Gacho is as good a guard animal as your Tobimaru there. Here..." She handed the plate of feed to him. "Just sprinkle a little of this behind you and head down that path. I'll be behind you, making sure the ducks follow you. It's not far. The pond is fairly large. There's poles and spears down there to fish with. If you'd like. Or you can come back up here and help me."
"Help with what?" Kotaro asked, idly poking a finger through the feed.
"There is always herbs and roots and bark to prepare. I need to make more of that balm for Nanashi's wounds. They help with the infection. There's also the last of my root vegetables to put up for the winter. A barn to clean, clothes to mend. There is plenty of work to be done. If you help me, young man," she glanced slyly at him. "I may even be able to do something about that katana..."
"What do you mean by that?" he asked as she poked her chin at the path and urged him to begin leading the ducks down it. A dozen or so ducks were mobbing them both.
"I know a thing or two about repairing such things," she said as he started dribbling the grains behind him and heading out.
"Why would you know that?" He asked.
"Oh my boy, I am a healer, and not just for people." Hira responded mysteriously with mirth in her voice.
For a boy, full of curiosity, eager to learn, happily fed and energetic, Hira's grounds proved to be a very large playground to go and explore in. For herself, she spent the greater part of the morning tending to the barn, and the remaining crops to be harvested, turning the compost heap, before she cleaned herself and returned to the house.
As she approached the irori, to check on the fire, she glanced at Nanashi.
His eyes were open. She could see the feverish glimmer of light in them and she paused a moment, studying his face. He was contemplating the ceramic water pot.
"Are you awake?" she asked softly, moving around and kneeling beside him. He glanced at her with the ghost of a smile on his lips. She filled the cup then helped him to drink.
"Thank you..." he managed to whisper after downing the contents. She just smiled, setting the cup aside.
"Are you in any pain?" she asked, looking at his grey features.
"Besides feeling like I've been trampled on by horses?" he managed to croak. Hira couldn't hide the smile that curled her lips. The fact he wasn't gasping for breath between words was encouraging.
"A sense of humour is good. Do the wounds hurt?"
"Not any worse than usual..." he whispered.
"How about your breathing? Do you feel any pressure on your chest?"
"Yes..." he murmured, "Inhaling isn't too fun."
"I could bind your ribs? That might make it easier. It's more important that you keep breathing from dantian."
"That might not be a bad idea," he said wearily. Hira nodded, and rose to her feet.
She returned a moment later with a thick, rolled, band of cloth. It took a few minutes to get him sat up enough for her to be able to snugly wrap the bandaging around his lower chest. The effort literally draining what reserves of energy he had managed to retain. However, the effort did help him be able to breathe a little easier. She helped him to settle down on his back.
"Are you hungry? I have rice porridge. A special mix I make, with honey and ginger. It won't upset your stomach." She asked.
He frowned slightly, then shook his head, clutching the pillow back to his chest. "Not just now..." he whispered. "Just want water more than anything.."
"I have something a little better than that," She said, "I have a tea here, with ginger and lemon grass and a few other things. It's not hot, and it will help with that fever."
He managed a slight smile, "You're the healer..." he said. She had the grace to blush slightly as she lifted a small pot and poured some of the tea into the cup.
This time he was able to hold it on his own, Hira only helping him to keep his head enough to drink it. "It's quiet in here..." he remarked, his eyes closing as she resettled his head on the other pillow.
"Yes it is. It's good for when one needs to recuperate. You pushed yourself too hard."
"Had to be done." He muttered back. "Kotaro?" he asked.
She smiled, "He's down at my pond, trying to fish and playing with my ducks."
"Is he being a terror?"
"Occasionally. He's got a lot of fear, for a boy. That brings out the aggression. I can work around that. Don't you concern yourself with him. I can keep him busy and distracted. He's got big plans for you."
"Don't I know it..." Nanashi replied dryly, reaching up tentatively with his right hand, to rub at his face. He looked a moment at his hand, realizing he hadn't been able to move it at all just the night before. He looked at Hira.
"Before you say it," she said to him, "I'm not just a healer. I chose to leave it like that, however. It is sufficient."
"How high up?" He asked.
"High enough." Was her simple response.
Nanashi watched her, then dropped his gaze. "I don't mean to be impertinent," he said.
"Somehow, I think that is unlikely coming from you. I've dealt with many a samurai and ronin. I know the quality ones."
"I would hardly call myself that," he said wearily, closing his eyes.
"Just as I would say the same about myself," she responded. "Nevertheless, I'm rarely wrong in my assumptions." She smiled at him. "Just the fact you did this to yourself rescuing a boy who is not your kin, speaks volumes."
Nanashi gazed at her a moment, weighing her words.
She smiled at him, "I'm proficient in shiatsu. If you'd like to shift sides I can work on your back."
"Shiatsu?" he asked. "Then that would mean..." he started to say realizing she had been a healer for the samurai class, quite possibly to a shogun or higher. Implications began creeping into his thoughts like tendrils.
Hira raised a hand and stopped him. "That was a former life. This is now. I don't withhold my skills. If anyone needs my particular talents, I'm willing to provide it. I don't just serve the elite."
He studied her. Definitely a healer to shoguns...
"I won't apply full pressure," she said, looking away from his gaze. "But I can apply just enough pressure to relax your back and especially to help with your breathing. I can still hear wheezing. I don't want fluid building up in your lungs."
"That..." Nanashi murmured, wondering idly how long it had been since he had had something like this, "would be divine."
Hira huffed softly in amusement. Not many people turned down a massage.
Hira helped him into a more accessible position, pulling the comforter down to his waist to expose his back. Nanashi tried to get his too tense shoulders to relax.
"Your chi is all blocked. Don't try and force yourself to relax. Just let me work things out. You'll be better off." She said
"No arguments there..." he mumbled, heaving a sigh.
Hira studied the criss crossing scars on his back and shoulders. Reaching up, she threaded her fingers into his hair at the back of his head and set her thumbs on either side of the cervical vertebrae.
His soft sigh of sheer relief when she applied the slightest pressure with her thumbs, brought out both a smile of satisfaction her part, but also a puzzled frown. She tilted her head slightly, gently working her thumbs in his hairline. Her other fingers, parted some of his hair aside.
"Akage...?" she murmured softly, there was no mistaking the dark burgundy roots of his 'black' hair.
"Eh?" Nanashi mumbled, opening one eye.
She slowly worked her way to the base of his neck. Admittedly, his neck and shoulders were tight with tension. Hira smiled gently, beginning to work her way down each vertebrae, her thumbs applying equal pressure on either side. She could feel the shiatsu working on him as he relaxed.
"Hush..." she replied, moving her thumbs down, flicking hair out of the way and checking another section of his head to confirm her thoughts. He did not have naturally black hair. Gently working her way down his neck she contemplated him.
She knew the rumours.
Akage.
Red Hair.
The Akai Akuma.
The Red Devil.
A mysterious samurai of the now, long obliterated Oatari district. One who worked mostly in the shadows and had risen up the ranks of bushi from vassal to hatamoto at an alarmingly steady clip.
A cloud of mystery surrounded such a figure. A samurai to be feared. One who had vanished shortly after the Oatari daimyo had successfully conquered another district. That same daimyo eventually succumbing to another lord later on.
The Red Devil was a myth to many people. Yet among the samurai class...
He was an oft whispered about legend, before an even more mysterious fall from grace. Gossip and hearsay made much about him throwing all his prestige and honour away to become a disreputable ronin. His abandoning his position even being hinted at as the reason his former lord fell. Many a shogun had contemptuously dismissed him for having deserted his lord over a point of honour.
Hira, gently working her way down his neck and upper back, let out a sigh. The man under her ministration was in real danger of death simply for saving the life of a child. What was dishonourable about that? He'd clearly shown, twice now, his concern for the boy over himself.
She could tell, as she set her thumbs on either side of a vertebra, he was falling asleep. His breathing, still with a bit of a wheeze, had evened out, deep and slow. Exactly what he needed. She stopped upon reaching the bandaging around his ribs, reaching down to pull the kakebuton back up around his neck. With any luck he'd sleep for a goodly while, so long as he stayed warm and quiet.
She checked the state of his fever one last time, then rose to her feet, feeling utterly weary herself.
