The Pebbles Underfoot
Chapter 3

The next morning, Shizuru was the earliest to rise, a common event as her parents aged.

A piece of wood crackled and popped in the small fire pit used to warm the house, and to cook. The jumping sparks fell into the ash and sand before petering out into nothingness. Shizuru prodded the wood, listening as it hissed and crackled once more, before settling a pot of water over the short flame. By the window, she saw an engagement gift, a fine silk cloth that could be made into a proper kimono.

It was a rare gift for a village girl such as herself, and she sighed. The soft baby blue color was a flattering choice, the red cherry blossom pattern on the edges a sign of good work. "Reito's wife…" Shizuru shook her head. "A silly event, surely trite, really."

She needed more water for the stewpot, and went to fetch some by the well. Her trek downwards was long and slow, but eventually, she reached the bottom. She could only carry two well buckets for her father's four, and even though she thought it might appear a weakness, she was surprised to see that she was not the only one gathering water first thing in the morning.

The strange woman was there. She filled two buckets, and then two more, hoisting all four of the large buckets onto her shoulders as if it were nothing. Man's labor, that's how it appeared, and yet, the woman was very clearly a lonely young lady. With no man of the house, and undesirable for her fortune, or lack of it.

"You should not do that all by yourself…"

Violet eyes that looked far too exhausted turned, apprising Shizuru. "No one else to do it." The strange young woman replied with a respectful nod of her head. She neither asked for help, nor waited for the offering of it. She merely continued her pace, likely under the insistence of the weight she carried.

Shizuru tried to think, it had been several years since she'd seen her father help this young woman, although it was clear that the woman was perfectly capable. She recalled the past. That some time ago, her mother would bring the girl miso soup in the morning, and a few bowls of rice. Feeling the urge to do something so indisputably from the past, she hurried home with her own water for the cooking pot.

After tending the fire once more properly, she committed herself to her task.

Her mother had decades more experience at cooking, comparatively to Shizuru's small handful, and the skill of that was very clearly seen as she stirred her finished creation. It was not her mother's work, just like her mother's ability to dye brightly colored threads, there was something just so wonderful about the woman.

Feeling a pangs of jealousy and inadequacy once more, she cursed to herself. Now was not the time for her misgivings. She carried the packaged morsels down the hill, and over to the lonely little hut, calling from the door, also made of Bamboo…yet, this mat was old and frayed. It was not the kind of thing one would expect for the coming weather, as a poorly made mat, meant the elements could get in.

"Mai I help you?" Again, that violet eyed gaze, so tired, so restless...so sad.

"I brought you breakfast…" Shizuru said in offering. "It was my family's duty, once, not too long ago."

"Three years ago, they stopped." Mai raised the flap anyway. "That's when I began to cook for myself."

Shizuru smiled as they sat in the too small main room, where the small cooking area and sitting area sat combined, sparsely furnished. "It's not my mother's best, but it is my best. I hope it pleases you."

Mai sipped from one of the bowls. There was the taste of miso and fish, but also something more…something an inexperienced hand would surely add. It was a good flavor, if not an odd one. "It tastes wonderful."

Shizuru's smile brightened. "I'm glad." In her deepest memories, Shizuru knew that Mai was not alone, but she certainly seemed to be now. "You are by yourself?"

"I look after my brother." Mai explained with a smile, but it was sad and worn. "We do not often expect callers, you see. Only when Shiho makes the rounds, and even then, it's a strange thing...she stays longer than most, treats us kindly…but, she is the village priestess, it should be expected."

Shizuru wondered who would come calling, what with the way the girl in-front of her looked. "Your hair, it is not the image of a maiden, but the cut of a warrior class. Strange for a woman, no? Stranger still, for a woman of our age."

Mai laughed and shrugged, her fingers running over her short tresses. "The cut of a person who has no one to look after her hair. I cut it myself, with a blade."

Shizuru nodded, that made sense. "You do not gather with the others. I wondered about that, if you were of warrior's blood."

The carrot topped woman laughed even harder, her hand rising up to cover her lips. "Even if I were such a class…even if that were so, I'm no warrior myself. It matters who holds the blade, so I thought."

How little she knew, it appeared. "A warrior's daughter, she is acknowledged as what she is, of warrior's blood…even if it is not nobility. Though, she often looks and acts like any other woman might..."

"My father, he was a warrior." Mai said then, turning to poke at her fire, the coals were small and she added a log. "To say he was an honorable one, however, should be held in the eye of the beholder. Even as a small child, I knew he was stripped of his class, I believe that's the problem."

"It could be." Shizuru admitted sadly. If that's the case, she should not be seen with the woman. She stood. "In any case, please enjoy the offering, and, for what it may be worth, I'm glad we had the opportunity to talk."

"You do not have to worry." Mai said with a nod, as she stood to see Shizuru out. "I am able to tent to my brother and myself, still, I thank you for the meal, and your concern, all the same."