Chapter 3 - Changing Winds

Days passed and she did not appear again. He spent more time at the farm, hoping to catch sight of her walking by on the road, for surely she must live in the area. But even in her absence, he found that she was changing how he saw things. His was less self conscious about his dirt and grime, less embarrassed by the roughness of his hands. The girl had said she liked them and, even if he didn't know her name, her opinion mattered to him.

That week, when he went to deliver his vegetables to Eriko's coffee house, as usual, he didn't feel as downcast as he had. Suddenly, Eriko seemed less appealing to him, with her perfect nails and high heels. Her superficiality, which he had been blind to before, seemed so obvious to him now. His determined pursuit of her had yielded him nothing but heartbreak and her tendency to flirt with any pretty man had just made him jealous and insecure. He could see now that he had never felt good enough around her, and the revelation was startling to him.

Looking back, it seemed absurd to him that he had poured so much of himself into so empty and useless a quest. He wondered what had happened to him that his adoration of her had dissipated so quickly. Was he so terribly fickle?

The teacup sat on his bedside table and each night, before he fell asleep, he traced the fragile china with a finger, following the pattern of cherry blossoms as they drifted down the sides.

When at last she returned, he was again taken by surprise. He was planting bulbs in the house garden, trying to get them into the ground before the frost came. They were not for food, or to sell, they were for his mother, who liked iris and so he worked with especial care.

"They will grow tall and make lovely flowers," she said and he turned to find her at his elbow. Today, her kimono was rust colored, with fall leaves and acorns on it. Her hair was tied back with a reddish colored band. Her face, thus displayed had all the delicacy of the fine porcelain of the teacup. He wondered if she were training to be a Geisha, she always seemed to be dressed so formally.

"I think so too," he answered her and then paused. "I'm Ozu Makito." She smiled at him and nodded. It occurred to him to wonder how she had gotten into the garden without him seeing her at the gate, but he had been absorbed in his planting and had no doubt simply missed her entrance.

"I'm Ki Sakura," she answered and he studied her for a moment, seeing how perfect the name was. She did seem as pretty and fragile as a cherry blossom, though her parents must have thought it was a funny joke to name her Cherry Blossom Tree.

"Do you live around here?" She blinked at him, apparently surprised at his question, and then laughed aloud, a warm and friendly sound that him smile in response.

"Very near," she answered, but the way she said it made him think that she was joking. He ran out of words then, feeling happy just to have her there beside him. She reached into the bucket and pulled out another bulb and handed it to him. He accepted it with a smile and together they set to work planting the bulbs. Once they finished, he rose and shoveled the rest of the dirt into the wheelbarrow. She picked up the broom and began sweeping the walkway clear.

"You will dirty your pretty clothes!" he exclaimed.

"It's okay; dirt is something good to get on you." She gave him a bright smile as she said it and he shook his head in confusion. What girl wandered around the suburbs of Tokyo in formal kimono and stopped to help someone plant bulbs? He wondered if perhaps she had escaped from her keepers, but she didn't seem crazy, just a little odd. She was also very pretty and he was suddenly concerned for her.

"You know, it isn't safe to talk to strangers, you should be more careful!" She stopped and gave him a startled look and then burst out laughing.

"I don't talk to strangers, only to you Makito-san!" There was such an earnestness to her words, despite her laughter, that it made him wonder what she meant by it.

They finished the rest of the cleaning in silence, smiles saying all that they needed to.

He didn't see her again all winter and found that for all that he hardly knew her, he missed her greatly. He craned his neck to look for her as he walked down the street, hoping to catch sight of her. He started when someone went by in kimono and obi, wondering if it were her. The sound of geta clattering by on the sidewalk would snap his head around, but it was never the right girl.

His mother noticed his abstraction. It was in late January and the family was having breakfast. Houka, Kai, mother and father, they were eating and talking together. The family was always loud and boisterous; he had hoped that their noise would cover his silence.

His missed his other siblings, though he was happy that they were succeeding in their chosen lives. Tsubasa, he knew, was away boxing in Korea, Urara and Hikaru were at their apartment. No doubt, he mused, Hikaru is fussing over Urara just now, worried about the baby that was coming soon.

"Aniki, what happened between you and Eriko?" his mother asked him, from out of nowhere, using his childhood nickname and speaking to him with concern in her face.

"It didn't work out," he answered absently.

"Eh?" Houka's surprised reaction and the face she pulled brought him out of his reverie. "You sound very calm!"

"She was very nice, but she didn't like the dirt," he explained and they all stared at him with wide eyes.

"But you said that you loved her, you pursued her so ardently!" Houka protested, hands clasped to her chest. "She kissed you! How can you be so offhand about this?"

"She didn't really love me; she only was kind to me because I helped her." He could see that now, he could see that she was shallow and superficial, and that he had fallen for a face and an outward seeming. Sakura was far more beautiful, but she worked beside him without complaint, content to get dirty and with as much love for the earth as he had.

"But Onii-chan, aren't you heart-broken and sad?" Houka asked him with an expression of confusion and concern. He looked at his baby brother and his parents and saw identical looks on their faces as well. He shook his head, surprised by how little he cared now. Sakura had washed that sorrow out of him with one smile.

"No, it's for the best." He nodded at them and turned back to eating his mother's delicious cooking. No one made fried eggs as perfectly as she did. He missed the looks of bafflement and confusion that his family gave each other.

He was working diligently in the garden for the next week, tilling the soil and preparing his beds for spring, but he was oblivious to his family's whispers. He missed Sakura more each passing day, but despite his attempts to find her in the phone book, there was no listing for a Ki Sakura. He wondered if she lived with a married sister.

January was halfway through before he saw her again. He was breaking through the frozen earth with a shovel, trying hard to turn the soil. Sweat beaded his brow, despite the chilly air and he was tired and thirsty. His siblings had gone to work or school, his parents has taken the train down to Kyoto and he was feeling very much alone.

Her hand appeared in the corner of his eye and he tuned quickly, his heart speeding up with joy. She had a small towel held out to him and he smiled as he accepted it. Her kimono was grey this time, with the trees done in a deep black, the bare branches starkly outlined in white snow. The hard earth allowed no mark from her geta, but the rustle of her kimono over the withered grass was a welcome sound to him.

"Thank you." He bowed in gratitude, both for the towel and just because she had returned. He wiped his face and then she handed him water in a fired clay cup. He drank thirstily, finding the water cold and clear. Her eyes on his were concerned, gentle, and full of quiet depths.

"You have been working hard," she commented, looking around at the cleared beds.

"Yes," he answered and suddenly a thousand questions bubbled up in his mind. Where had she been, where did she live, and what was she doing in his garden? He opened his mouth to ask, but watched as her face fell. He closed his mouth on all his questions and took a deep breath. "Are you enjoying the winter?" he asked instead.

Her smile blossomed again, soft pink lips turning up in a face of palest white.

"I have, the winter is very peaceful, but I look forward to the spring." They stood there, he with towel and cup in his hands, she with hers clasped before her, and just looked at each other for a long moment.

"Spring is always welcome," he answered finally. He was lost in her gaze, unmoving and unsure of quite what was happening. She confused him, but she also drew him and he could not turn away from her gaze. Finally she flushed a little and looked away, suddenly seeming aware of the intensity of the moment.

"Yes, there will be much to do in the garden." For the first time, she seemed at a loss for words, as uncertain as he was.

"Houka will help me though," he told her and she cocked her head in enquiry.

"My sister," he explained. "I am the eldest of five." Best to warn her first, it occurred to him, in case they descended upon him.

"Tell me about them?" she asked diffidently and with a broad smile he did so. There were many stories to relate and he loved telling them. He told her about Houka's search for the perfect man and the many foolish things she had done in the course of it. He made Sakura laugh aloud when he described the wedding that almost happened and while he did not explain all Houka's reasons, he did not wish Sakura to think poorly of her either, so he edited carefully, but with kindness.

He told of sweet, gentle Urara, tales of how she scrubbed pots when sad and distressed. How she had cooked and cleaned with such diligence when father and mother had been away. How she had won the heart of her husband with her courage and kindness. Sakura's smiles, questions, and exclamations made each story even more special to him.

Next he told her of clever Tsubasa, the thinker in the family. He told stories of how Tsubasa had used his brain to solve childhood problems and to help Urara keep the peace between them all, though his arguments with Kai were legendary. He told her about Tsubasa's boxing career and how well he was doing and she shared in his pride and his joy.

He spoke next of irrepressible Kai, with his fiery temper and huge heart, who was never afraid of anything except failing his family. He told stories of each one of them and then things that they had all done together and as he spoke, they worked together in the garden.

With her assistance the time seemed to fly by and when they were finished he looked around in surprise.

"We've done so much!" he exclaimed in surprise. She nodded and her pleased smile as she admired their accomplishment warmed him through. Here, he thought to himself, was a woman who loved the same things that he did. It occurred to him that she had become his friend somewhere along the way.

She stepped over to the faucet and bent to wash her hands in the water. Her face was dirty, smudged with earth, her hair tangled, her kimonos had stains on them, her tabi were more brown than white, and her geta were caked in mud, but she grinned at him with a look of purest joy.

It was that moment when he realized that he was helplessly in love.