Chapter Nine: Healing and Heartache

Himeno

I grasped onto the rigging, the howling winds and the pelting rains unrelenting. I needed to get a firmer hold otherwise the next gust of wind would be the end for me. Holding tightly with one hand, I pulled out the knife from my pocket. It was too slippery to undo a knot in this situation; the fastest method would be to cut the whole mainsail off the mast.

I was so focused on reaching the top of the mast that I did not sense the tilt until it was too late. With ragged breaths, I looked down and realized that the mast itself was breaking. I needed to get down—now. It was too late to save the mast. As I worked to move down the rigging, a sudden clap of thunder startled me, and I slipped—saved from following into the churning waters only from the tangling of the rigging around my legs.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm myself, I swung myself back up to catch the ropes in my hands once more. I furiously cut away at the rope tangled around me and began to make my way down. So far so good. As I started to regain focus, I felt irritation rise to the surface. What was I thinking, climbing up the rigging myself! Did I believe I would be any help at all? Was my pride worth the risk to my safety?

Shaking my head, I continued my descent until I heard the sound I had been dreading. A massive cracking noise signaled to me that the breaking of the mast was nearly there. I did not have much time left. The combination of a massive wave and the further cracking of the mast swung me dangerously close to the water. I cried out in shock as I slipped once again, holding onto the rigging with all my might. I did not trust myself to move.

Suddenly, the mast gave way. I looked down and saw nothing but the swirling waves—the entrance to my doom. I braced myself for the impact with the icy cold water while filled with the sense that I would not survive.

'I'm sorry…' I said mentally to the family whom I still owed so much and to myself for failing to reach my goal. The demonic case of the captain surfaced in my mind, and I felt a surge of anger at the helplessness of my situation. I wanted to lash out—against the captain, against the crew, against the storm, against that stupid first mate…

"Hayate!" I cried as I plunged into the waves. I hit the water hard, the wind knocked out of me. I panicked as the frigid water rushed into my lungs and the waves forced me down with the rest of the mast. I struggled to reach the surface. It was dark; I could not tell up from down, and my body refused to move to my will. My chest was burning and I was fighting a foe that would not give in, that had no weaknesses…

I woke with my heart hammering in my chest. I could still feel the cold water rushing into my lungs and the sensation of being unable to breath. And then warmth…

I sat up in my hammock and turned to check the bed. Hayate still had not returned. I pulled his coat tighter around my body as concern, guilt and confusion filled my thoughts. I had never seen Sasame look that livid before, especially at Hayate, and I feared the cruelty of the punishment Hayate was enduring now—because of me. Had I listened to him and returned to the cabin, had my pride not gotten in the way…

'But he didn't have to save you,' a voice said to me in the back of my mind, 'he could've let you drown.' It was true. There was no reason for him to save my life. I was a mere cabin boy. I was expendable, discard able. There was no reason for the first mate of a ship to go to such lengths. Then why…?

I leaned back into my hammock and bit my lip. If I had originally thought that the captain was unpredictable and the first mate the epitome of duty, Hayate's actions towards me defied that logic. Was it because he knew I was a woman? Was there some drop of chivalry left in that man? But no, he had shown interest in me before he knew I was a woman…

Closing my eyes, I saw his panicked face in my vision. He looked desperate—and the way he had held me close to him as if protecting me with his lips on mine…

Unbidden, I felt a blush creep across my face, my fingers brushing lightly on my lips. I sighed. I did not expect to find any kindness aboard this ship, but both Go and Hayate had startled me in that respect.

"No!" I cried out, shaking my head. I could not afford to become soft now. For whatever reasons, Hayate had saved my life. He had found me valuable enough to risk his own life—a fact that I could use to my advantage. I did not understand the bond that held together the captain and his first mate, but I would do my best to sever it for the success of my plans.

I shot up when I heard the cabin door slam open. Hayate had returned, and as expected, looked horrible. I felt a pang of guilt as I saw whip marks across his back. I made my way over to him, but he swatted me away. He was trembling and shivering and I was afraid that he might be feverish as well.

"Let me take a look at your wounds…" I began.

"Don't touch me," he snapped. I pulled back my hand, hurt and then felt a surge of anger.

"Look, it's my fault you're like this, so at least let me tend to your wounds!" I shot back, hands on my hips. From his prone position on his bed, Hayate looked up at me and sighed.

"Do as you wish," he conceded, removing his tattered and sodden shirt. I winced as I saw the extent of the whips; his entire back was crisscrossed with red lines, cutting deep into his skin. The whips were not entirely fresh—some had begun to crust over while others were partially oozing.

Swallowing the rising bile in my mouth, I asked, "Where are the ointment and bandages?"

"Third drawer from the top," Hayate grunted, continuing to shiver. I took a dry towel and threw it in his direction.

"Dry off with that first and change into some dry pants," I said, turning away to give him some privacy.

While he changed, I took a piece of cloth and wet it, squeezing out all the excess water, my hand shaking while I did so. The condition he was in…

"Done," he croaked. I turned to him and began to wipe his body down with the cool cloth. He winced as I made my way over to his back.

"Can't you do it any gentler?" he wheezed.

"Be grateful I'm doing anything at all," I replied on reflex, although I decreased the pressure I was placing on his skin. After I had dried him down once more, I began to apply the ointment to the marks.

"He doesn't take punishment lightly, does he?" I asked, hoping to break the tension the silence had created.

"I disobeyed his order to cut down the mast. His punishment was light for that offense," Hayate replied in his usual monotone voice.

"Why do you put up with it?" I asked, my anger at the captain rising in increments for each whiplash. There must have plenty of other options for Hayate, given his education and what I imagined was his high-class background.

Hayate did not answer immediately, making me think that he had not heard me. He finally responded once I had completed bandaging him.

"It's the least I can do," he said softly. Before I could ask him any further questions, he looked up at me and said with the utmost sincerity, "Thank you."

I opened my mouth to respond in kind, but he had turned over to sleep. I clamped my jaw shut, determined to thank him for saving my life during the next opportunity I received, and crept back into my hammock. As my eyes closed, his look of sincerity filled my mind and his soft 'thank you' echoed as I fell back into sleep.

Thank you, Onee-chan, I cried out when I found the paper crane on my bed. My older sister Takako's kind eyes and smile greeted me as I woke up, and I smiled in return. The sunshine flowing into the room surrounded her figure, and I remembered thinking that she had looked like an angel. The angel of my family.

I clasped her hand and the two of us ran into the kitchen, where our youngest sister Mawata was already seated and having breakfast with my father. I felt irritation when I saw him drinking instead of eating, and promptly clapped him on the head, replacing his bottle with the breakfast Takako had made. At the sight of his sad expression, the three of us sisters laughed.

"Can you believe him, mother?" I asked incredulously to the photo of my mother on the table.

"I can't believe someone like mother would marry someone like father," Mawata said.

"Ah, what a horrible father I am!" my father burst out in comic depression, causing the three of us to laugh once more.

"Well, are you ready?" he asked Takako. She nodded in affirmation. I sighed. My sister was now of age to enter society, and a family friend of ours had promised to take her to London since she had no other female relatives to recommend her. I had not been looking forward to this day—the day I would be separated from my dear older sister for the first time in my life.

I followed the two of them to the dock, trying my hardest not to cry. I wanted to see her off with a smile at least.

"My dear Himeno and Mawata, be good and take care of our hopeless father, will you?" she asked. I nodded, while Mawata smiled. I envied Mawata's strength. She could smile even when it was painful. Even when mother had died, she had been strong, keeping from crying although she was the youngest. She had kept our family from crumbling that time. And she was doing the same even now, as her second mother of sorts was leaving her as well.

"Be safe," I said to Takako, giving into momentary weakness and pulling her into a hug.

Be safe…I woke with sweat on my brow, the memory of my sister's departure fading into the realm of dreams. I brought my hand to my face, wiping away the tears that had trickled down my face. I shook my head. It would not do to dwell on the past. What was gone was gone. I needed to focus only on the present. On my revenge.