Chapter 2 – Strange Encounters
The very next morning was the first time that Makito saw the strange girl. He had come in a little earlier than usual, still miserable about the break-up, wanting to lose himself in the hard labor that the farm required.
He only saw her from a distance, a slender, delicate figure, dressed in kimonos that seemed to have come from a different time. Her black hair, long and lustrous fell down her back in a smooth wave and her dark eyes seemed to be focused on a great distance.
He only saw her for a moment, standing at the edge of his field, the early morning mist making her seem more like a left over dream, that he had not quite awoken from, than anything real and solid. She was standing beside the old cherry tree, though in the mist, it was hard to tell whether she even saw him. He blinked and she was gone.
He didn't mention the sighting to anyone, of course. His family thought of him as the sensible brother. As the eldest of five, he had always taken care of the others and he had long since rid himself of fanciful notions. He didn't want them to think that he was seeing ghosts, so he didn't tell them about the mysterious woman in the garden.
She was probably nothing strange anyway, some girl going home from a formal party, perhaps a little drunk. So, there was really nothing to say, after all.
The second time that he saw her, it was in the middle of the night. The darkness was deep and the moonlight barely illuminated the garden down below his window. He heard a soft sound that woke him from sleep. It could have been branches rubbing together, or possibly cloth being dragged across the ground. He went to his window to see, bare chest chilled by the night air, as he opened the window to look out. His hair, unbound for sleeping, whipped across his face, in the breeze from his window and he pushed it back with a frown.
The gate that led to his farm garden was open, the path somewhat orange tinted from the sodium light of a nearby streetlight. There was no traffic in the road that ran by outside his family's home, though, somewhere far off, a dog barked.
Looking down, his eyes caught a movement. The girl from the other morning was there in the house garden, kneeling before one of his ferns. He frowned more deeply, that plant had been sickly and hadn't been growing well, but he hadn't wanted to pull it out. He had poured plant food onto its roots, spoken gently to it, and aerated the soil with a small rake, but nothing had worked. Still, he had hope for it and kept at it.
She knelt above the ailing foliage, dark hair falling around the plant like a black curtain. He could see her lips moving, but could hear nothing of what she said. Then she rose and quietly went down the gravel path and out of the gate, back towards his farm garden. There was another road that ran by there, perhaps she lived along that road.
He wasn't certain as to why he didn't call out, after all, she had been trespassing in his family's yard. It just seemed natural somehow, as though she belonged there. When she was gone from sight, he closed the window and padded back to bed. By morning, he was certain that it had merely been a dream.
Except, the fern was stronger that morning, and within days it had turned the deep rich green of good health. He thought about saying something to his family then, but he didn't. After all, he wasn't certain exactly what he'd seen.
He wrestled with his silence, wondering if he should speak to someone. Still, Urara was probably the one he most wanted to speak with. His youngest sister, had gone to live with her husband in Magitopia, and as glad as he was that they had found each other, he missed her sensible advice acutely, not to mention her talents with a crystal ball. She could have told him easily what he had seen.
His other sister, Houka, was flighty and silly, though her heart was always full of compassion. Her magical skills were great, but her discretion wasn't, and for some reason he wanted to keep the sightings a secret just now. He wondered if he could talk about this with her in the abstract, but dismissed the idea quickly, she was too curious and would hound him endlessly.
His also didn't feel like confiding in his two younger brothers, the elder of them, Tsubasa, was always cynical and rational, he would dismiss the whole thing out of hand as a dream, or assume it was a hungry ghost that meant to attack them. His youngest sibling, Kai, was so precipitous that anything you told him was likely to be acted upon immediately. He could just see him running around with his wand, hunting for the girl like she was an oni down from the mountains.
That left only his parents. But still, even as he thought of telling them, he knew that he wouldn't. After all, he wasn't even certain that he had seen anything at all.
The third time though, he knew that he wasn't dreaming.
The evening was late and he had stayed in the field, hoeing and raking long past his usual hour. Fall was coming on and there was much to clear out to prepare his beds for winter. The evening was filled with red and gold light filtered through branches and leaves from the various trees that clustered around the field. It was cold that evening, though he hardly noticed it, he was so wrapped up in his work. He heard a step and turned in surprise, thinking that one of his siblings had come to help him.
She was standing there beside him, a cup of fragrant green tea held out in her hand, her expression concerned. The pattern on her kimono was interlaced cherry branches, bare, with the last of the fall leaves turning colors, small birds perched among the woven twigs. But it was her eyes, fathomless and filled with wisdom and kindness that arrested him. They dominated her heart-shaped face, a brown so dark that it was nearly black and framed in thick dark lashes.
"You are shivering," she told him, her voice was soft, but very definitely real. It wasn't until she said that that he realized he was cold. His teeth were chattering and his fingers were blue. He was kneeling beside the cabbage patch, his smaller hoe in his hand, working at turning the soil and he could suddenly feel the chill as it rose up from the ground.
"Thank you," he bowed politely from the waist and accepted the cup from her, his fingers gratefully wrapping around the heat. She sank down beside him on the dirt covered stone walkway and he protested. "You will get mud on your kimono!" His words made her smile and it was like sunshine and birdsong to him.
"This good earth, which you have tended and poured your heart into? I am lucky to touch it." He found himself flushing and sipped the tea to cover his embarrassment. The heat of the liquid seemed to fill him up inside, seeping into his bones and warming him completely. "The tea helps?" she asked softly and he could have listened to her speak forever.
"Yes, it does." He was caught up in her eyes, the way she smiled, shyly now, as though she had just become aware that they were here, alone in the garden together. "Thank you again." He was trembling again now, but not from the cold.
She took his hand and warmed it between her own and her touch was soft as flower petals. His hand, so rough and calloused from work embarrassed him and he quickly drew it away, much to her startlement. "My hands are dirty," he explained and her face cleared.
"Honest dirt is nothing to be ashamed of," she laughed, and he could see from her eyes that she was serious. She looked at him as though he were important, not just some farmer in his field, but someone worthy of honor. Not being able to tell most people about his being a magician, made it even more important to him that she respected him for the little he could tell her.
It was nice to see admiration in a girl's eyes, especially after Eriko and her friend's stinging contempt. "I like your hands," she admitted, looking as surprised by the confession as he was.
"Onii-chan!" Houka's voice could be heard drifting across the garden and he turned, startled, to answer her.
"Here!" He turned back to speak to the woman, but she was gone, only a soft impression in the earth beside him as proof that she had been there at all. He found that he felt the loss of her acutely and resented Houka's arrival. Clearing his face of his disappointment, he rose and brushed off his pants. Either she was incredibly shy, had been embarrassed to be caught alone in the garden with a strange man, or she was a figment of his imagination.
He realized that the teacup, fine and fragile as a flower, still lay in his hand. So, she was not a mere imagining then.
Houka, bright, pretty, with her dark hair waving around her face, came bounding in to the field, full of energy and exuberance. Beside her he felt dirty and tired as he rose and brushed the dirt off of his work pants.
"Onii-chan!" Houka, impatient now, gestured him back towards the path to the house. "Kaa-san has dinner ready! It's sukiyaki! Hurry!" She was bouncing excitedly, it was one of her favorite meals and Kaa-san rarely served it.
With a last backwards glance at the spot where the stranger had knelt, he went into dinner, the teacup still cradled in his hand. If it hadn't been for the warmth of the stranger's fingers he would have been quite certain that she had been a ghost.