Yes, I come bearing a chapter. Call it a gift for having been interrupted by a Rurouni Kenshin fic that insisted on being written in the middle of trying to write this!
I am slowly coming to terms over my Mom's death. It's more along the lines of learning how to live with a new normal. It's a slow process, but steps are being taken, baby steps most times, bigger steps when I can. It's a different world now that I am still trying to get used to.
Praise the Lord though, I still have my writing!
9.
As the way of fevers go, it finally broke in the wee hours of the morning. Nanashi woke up, still feeling utterly drained, and drenched in sweat. Two things, however, were noticeably different.
Feeling strangely odd, there was no tension in him, he simply drifted, loose and comfortable for a change.
He was also thinking clearly.
He took an experimental deep breath, noticing that the pain of his broken ribs had substantially lessened. He blinked his eyes open. Lying still, he gazed at the red maple fusuma from where he lay on his right side. The fire from the irori barely illuminated the room. He drew in another slow, deep, breath. Oddly, he could smell a faintly herbal aroma coming from his skin.
It was eerily quiet. Almost too quiet. With a frown, Nanashi slowly, carefully, rolled onto his back. He glanced left. Hira sat at the chabudai, or rather she slumped over it. He frowned. She lay utterly still, one arm draped across the table, the other cushioning her head in what had to be an awkward position. She faced him. Her hair flowed in a black curtain over her shoulders. She was soundly asleep.
A chill caused him to shiver and he realized that something else was urging him to get up. He glanced right, remembering where there was a toire to use. With a soft groan and some effort, he managed to sit up and waited a few moments before getting his feet under him and rising unsteadily up.
For the first time in days he felt a minor triumph just getting this far, despite shaking with weakness. That and the fact he managed to get up without waking anyone. He could see the mound that must have been Kotaro buried under his comforter. He never moved. Neither did the dog.
Without further ado he wobbled his way to the fusuma, carefully sliding it back and entered the storage room, seeing the shoji panel behind which must be what he was seeking after. So many days down, it felt like a major accomplishment to get this far. It definitely provided relief.
What he didn't expect was Hira, sleepily gripping the fusuma's edge in one hand as she stood in the storage room, blinking blearily at him as he came back out. Her other hand dragged that long hair out of her eyes.
He instantly tweaked the juban he wore into place, as he both wobbled and shivered, standing in the doorway. Involuntarily he could feel heat rising in his face.
"What?" she started to ask and stopped, focusing on him. "What are you doing up?"
"Uhhh..." he started to say and just jerked his head to the shoji behind him.
Hira studied him a second, noting he was a lot taller now that he was actually standing up straight. She moved forward, "C'mon..." She said approaching him.
Nanashi held up his hands, stopping her. "It's okay..." he said as she looked at him sceptically. "I can do this." He self consciously tugged the juban down a little lower, looking anywhere but at her.
Hira stopped and raised an eyebrow at him in challenge. "Are you blushing?"
"Um..." he started to say, swallowing nervously, reaching up to run his hand across the back of his neck, he suddenly couldn't face her.
A tiny, impish, smile curled the corners of her mouth as she folded her arms. She maintained a steady gaze on his face. "If it's any consolation, my hands have been all over your body. I've seen every thing."
He instantly groaned, his shoulders sagging towards the floor as he dropped his head. "That didn't help!" He said ruefully.
She actually giggled, her eyes lit with mischief, before she stepped forward and took his arm in her hands. "Come on. You're about to fall over."
"What do you expect with a revelation like that?!" he grumbled, reflexively gripping her arm.
"I never expected to see a ronin blush... So modest!" she fired back.
"Like hell I am!" he retorted as she gently steered him out. Hira let him take as much of the task on himself. "I just never expected to be in the care of a woman healer."
Wobbling, he slowly limped his way out of the room and back into the main washitsu.
Hira sniffed, helping him to settle back down. "We're no different than men healers."
"I beg to differ there..." he said as he slowly lowered himself and sat back down. Hira settled on her knees nearby, watching him carefully. Nanashi pulled the comforter back around his shoulders. He sighed in relief, he felt weaker than as a kitten.
"I am pleased to see you moving about normally. Your breathing, is it okay?" Hira asked.
"Yeah, no pressure. Side still hurts though." He commented, running a hand over his ribs. "The rest of me just feels... tattered."
"The wounds?" she asked.
"Seem to be doing all right..." he confirmed.
Still watching him carefully she asked. "And your thoughts? Clear?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, subconsciously reaching up and scratching at the stubble on his chin.
"You haven't exactly been in touch with reality the last few days. Despite teasing you, I just want to be certain I'm speaking to a rational Nanashi. Humour is a good indicator."
"Days?" he checked, looking at her, his eyes widening in surprise.
"Yes, days," Hira replied, dragging her hair back with one hand. "Fevers tend to want to hang on to their victims." She smiled a little. "Would you like anything? Water? Tea? Something to eat?"
"You've been at this for days?" Nanashi looked her over. "When was the last time you got any sleep?"
She let out a huff. "I quit counting the hours when you started getting delirious."
"And how bad was that?" he asked, a tad cautious.
"I'll just say that you were rambling, talking nonsense. You need not worry yourself."
He studied her a moment. "What all did I say?" he asked, insistent.
"Enough to let me know you're carrying a heavy heart and a lot of pain, my friend," she said gently, glancing over at the irori. "Things that can hurt you more than they can help you."
"That doesn't answer my question," he said.
"Your question is really how much of yourself did you reveal to me," she said. "You've been sick, very sick, on top of your injuries. What comes out sometimes is guilt, heartache and anguish; any number or combination of emotions. That can't necessarily be relied upon. Let me just reassure you of something," She looked back at him. "What is said in moments like this is between you and I, a healer and their patient, no others."
A faintly forbiddingly look lit his amber eyes. "What did you hear?" he asked again.
She raised her hand, "Don't be alarmed, I implore you, please," Hira said gently. "Don't let this trouble you."
"It can't be helped..." he said quietly. "What did you hear?" He asked again, persistent.
Hira huffed in irritation, "I heard nonsense," she said flatly. "You were incoherent," she shook her head, "and you're not that person any more."
"How can you be so certain?" Nanashi asked, looking back at her.
Hira just smiled at him, and nodded her head at Kotaro, buried under his blanket. "Because of him."
Nanashi glanced over at the slumbering mound, Tobimaru's tail being the only thing visible. "You still haven't answered my question..." he reiterated, looking at her.
Hira sighed. "You were tasked with an honour killing..." she said softly. "A senseless, painful, one. You carry a burden in your heart that the delirium exposed. I believe now that this is why you decided to walk away and become a ronin." She regarded his scarred face. "One cannot fault you for that."
"Oh, but many have," Nanashi responded. He glanced at Kotaro, then looked at the fire. "A samurai doesn't disavow his oaths to his Lord. Those who do become anathema. Either scorned or executed -like vermin- on sight."
"But that hasn't occurred with you..." Hira said.
"Yet." Nanashi shot back. "Just tell me what I said?" He repeated.
"Your words were rambling, incoherent and not even sequential. You were delirious. This kind of talk makes no sense. Trying to repeat it, even less."
"But you've figured out what they implied," he persisted.
"How can I not?" She asked. "You seem anxious that I know what they imply. Why is that?"
"What occurred is my burden, my business..." he started.
"It still is. My hearing the incoherent mumblings of a sick patient doesn't remove that." She replied.
"What I'm failing to understand is why this is a sore point with you. You have nothing to fear from me." She looked frankly at him, searching his face. "Moreover, you have nothing to be ashamed of."
"And you say you don't understand why this is a burden to me?"
"Nanashi..." she said. "They're dead. They didn't deserve it. You didn't have a choice..."
"I did have a choice!" he abruptly hissed. "I should have died in their place rather then exec..."
A spark of anger lit Hira's eyes. "The only thing that would have changed is that you'd be dead too!" Hira interrupted him in a fierce whisper. "Those children would still have been executed." Her eyes bore into his, challenging him.
"Royal hostages, yes? Like you, like me, their fates were sealed and they knew it. If you hadn't have done it, then another, glory seeking, samurai would have done it in your place. They didn't stand a chance. Yes, you carry the guilt of their deaths. Are you going to let that define who you are and waste their sacrifice? Or are you going to learn from it and face the future with more wisdom and understanding to not let something like that happen again? Seems to me..." She nodded her head at Kotaro. "You've already taken that step. Recriminations and pity are useless now."
"Has anyone told you, you are infuriatingly relentless?" He growled.
"Probably as many times as someone has called you a fool." Hira lifted her chin up in defiance.
For a moment nothing was said between them. Finally she backed down.
"Nanashi," she said, shaking her head. "Those children, I imagine they were your wards? They're gone now, they're dead. Honour their memory by carrying on."
"But they keep coming back!" he looked away from her, hurt and grief reflecting on his face.
"What comes back to us in our dreams is a pale, inconsequential, shade compared to what they were," Hira replied.
"Shades still hurt," Nanashi said, equally relentless, his voice a low growl. "I'm quite sure the ghost of your husband can still reduce you to the state of a weak and sobbing little girl."
"And my whole family joins him..." Hira retorted, her chin lifting. "I won't deny it. I just won't let them stop me. The ghosts are just ghosts, flimsy replicas of the ones I loved. I acknowledge them but nothing can bring them back. I carry on."
"You're able to carry on because your hand wasn't the one swinging the sword to cut their life off!" He hissed.
"But my hand was the one that missed the clues leading to the death of my husband," she said, facing him. "Many members of the daimyo's court blame me for that. We all have guilt that we carry. Our ghosts feed on that. It's what they do. It doesn't mean their always right!"
She focused on his face, studying him. "Many times the things they say are nothing that they would have ever spoken. Their words are only the issues in our heart coming back to mock us," she added. "You have to decide for yourself whether or not your ghosts control you, and how you're going to respond to them. That is something I cannot do for you."
"Something you cannot heal?" he shot back.
Hira jerked her head back as if slapped, her eyes wide, the colour draining from her face. A sneer started to lift the corner of her mouth as her breathing skipped at beat.
Nanashi could see a pulse throbbing in her neck. His eyes remained locked with hers, instantly knowing he had hit something viciously hard. It didn't surprise him. He'd been trained to do things like this all his life.
Visibly beginning to shake, Hira's jaw muscles tightened as she bit down, grinding her teeth, her fingers clenching the fabric of the robes covering her legs. Her nostrils flared as she struggled to keep her expression neutral.
She slowly lowered her gaze, a faintly wild light shining briefly in them before she drew in a shuddering breath of air. She reached over to the water pot with a shaking hand, lifting the ladle while her other grabbed the cup and filled it.
Water sloshed over the edges from her trembling as she twisted and set the cup down near him. Her gaze remained averted. Without a word she rose to her feet. She stood there a moment, deliberately not looking at him before turning toward the shoji separating her room from the washitsu.
"It is not uncommon..." she said in a very quiet voice. "For patients to be ill-natured after a long fevers. It's a normal part of the healing process. They often take that out on the ones who healed them."
For a moment, the only sound in the room was the fire in the irori.
Without another word, Hira left him sitting there. Silently sliding the shoji back, then shut again as she left him alone.
He sat there for few minutes, scratching at the stubble on his chin in irritation. His gaze dropped to stare at the cup of water she had set by him. The fingers of his left hand slowly curled around his knee as he lifted his other hand to prop his head up and cover his eyes. Wearily he closed them, and slowly shook his head.
"You damned fool idiot!" he whispered in self loathing. "What the hell have you done?!"
The next morning he wouldn't even be able to find out.
An enormous cacophony of angry honking, and barking, literally brought all of them straight up out of their respective beds.
Looking around him in wild eyed confusion, Kotaro exclaimed, "Tobimaru!?" While Nanashi just sat bolt upright, wincing as he grabbed at his ribs.
"What the hell?" He exclaimed looking around for the source of the racket.
The shoji screen to Hira's room slid open with a hard thump and she stumbled out, cinching the knot of her sash down as Kotaro scrambled out of his bed. Over one of her shoulders was a loosely draped red silk scarf that nearly reached the floor.
"That stupid goose!" Kotaro erupted. "I hope Tobimaru gets him this time!"
"That's not a fighting noise!" Hira snapped, her hair spilling around her shoulders in utter disarray. She made her way rapidly past them both. "That's a defending noise!" She jerked the scarf around her neck, letting the two ends dangle towards the ground. Nanashi barely made out large black characters written down both ends of the scarf.
Before entering the genken, her hand reached up over the lintel post and jerked down a six foot long pole. Two feet from the upper end was the hand guard of a tsuba. Without a word, her hand slid up the staff, grabbed the sheath and pulled it off the blade. Slipping it under her sash, she stepped down into the genken for her sandals.
She promptly disappeared, Kotaro and Nanashi hearing her jerk open one of the engawa storm shutters.
Nanashi, looked around a moment frantically searching, as Kotaro dashed to the genken.
"Kotaro!" he snapped and was promptly ignored.
The boy ran outside as the cacophony continued on.
Inside, a mad scramble ensued as Nanashi grabbed for his clothes and within moments he managed to half limp, half stumble his way out onto the engawa before catching himself from falling. He threw an arm around a post, his other hand grabbing at his side. He clutched the fabric of his robes as he panted hard for breath, feeling his knees begin to give out from under him. He scowled at his weakness, trying to see down the stone pathway to the trail beyond.
Out on the trail, Hira stood in its center as both dog and goose continued their racket. Three men stood before her, partially hidden by the trees blocking the view of the path. She had the naginata planted solidly into the ground before her, holding one end of the red scarf in her hand up, shaking it.
Nanashi could make out that the three men were armed with swords and dressed in a disreputable collection of rags. One of the men had moved forwards, talking to Hira. They were fiercely debating something.
Nanashi glanced around quickly, seeing if there was anything handy nearby to use as a weapon. He heard Hira talking quickly to the man over the racket of the animals.
Kotaro meanwhile, had slid to a stop in the pathway, just out of sight of the trail, watching what was enfolding. He was listening intently to Hira berating the men on the road.
Nanashi scowled, forcing his shaking legs to support him as he relied heavily on the post to keep him upright. "Kotaro!" he snapped, trying to get the boy's attention.
The boy suddenly slapped his hands over his mouth to stop his laughter. He turned around at the sound of his name, eyes glinting, and he looked back at Nanashi with a flash of mischief. That was until he saw Nanashi leaning dangerously over the edge of the engawa, arm wrapped around the post, the other gripping his ribcage.
That wild joy on his face slowly disappeared as he got a good, hard, look at the man. Horror flashed over the boy's features as he turned and began running towards him. "Nanashi!" he exclaimed, desperation creeping into his voice.
"What's happening out there?" Nanashi snapped as the boy slid to a stop in front of him.
"You've got to get inside!" Kotaro burst out, searching Nanashi's face. "Now! You've got to get back inside!" He was looking at him with a growing dread and fear.
"What is happening down there!?" Nanashi demanded as he tried to claw his way back up straight, still panting hard from his exertions. He continued looking around, searching for anything to use as a weapon.
"You have to get back inside!" Kotaro said urgently. "Come on!" He dashed up onto the engawa, trying to pull Nanashi's arm free from the post. "Now!"
"Tell me what is happening down there!" Nanashi snapped in irritation, trying to push the boy away.
"She's telling them we have smallpox!" Kotaro snapped back. "You can't let them see you!"
Smallpox?
Of course, the scarf... a warning for healers to keep people at bay from entering a residence. That was the writing on the ends of the scarf. The sash itself a warning to those who couldn't read. Nanashi felt the boy pulling on him, trying to force him away from the edge of the porch.
"Nanashi! You can't let them see you! You've got to get back inside!" The boy was insisting, almost frantic now in his attempts to get the man to turn around. "Please!" He pleaded.
Pleading? Nanashi frowned, looking at the boy. Kotaro pulled on his arm and his robes, trying to get him to move.
"Kotaro? What..?" he started to ask.
"Your face!" The boy exclaimed, "You haven't shaved! Your beard... It's red!"
A chill swept over the man as he stared at the boy insisting that he return inside the house. In a daze he allowed Kotaro to drag him away from the edge of the en and lead him, limping, back into the genken.
As relief hit the boy, anger returned and he began berating Nanashi as he snatched his tabi from off his feet, trying to push him into the washitsu. Nanashi stumbled, one hand reaching up to drag his fingers over the stubble on his cheek as realization crashed into him with the force of a tidal wave.
"How could you forget? You are such an idiot!" Kotaro raged.
The boy continued angrily as Nanashi gained his feet, standing up, his gasps for breath slowing as he stared around the inside of the room. His brain felt like it was on fire.
A muffled thump on the engawa signalled Hira's return to the house. There was a pause as she kicked off her sandals and another as she stepped up onto the floor.
Kotaro had suddenly fallen silent as Nanashi slowly turned around to face her, his hand still touching the stubble on his face, mouth partially open as his amber eyes locked onto her dark ones.
Hira pulled the saya free from her sash, looking at the man, as she slipped the blade of the naginata back into the sheath. The blade's habaki made a soft metallic click as it went home against the sheath's koiguchi.
"Unwanted visitors," she said, lifting the naginata and reaching up to replace it above the entryway. "With news from the village." She smiled slightly turning back, as she reached up and pulled the red scarf from off her neck.
"They think this place is in quarantine now. They won't disturb us. They're taking word back to the..." She stopped, seeing the look on Nanashi's face.
"You. Know." He stated flatly.
