Frostbitten Blossom

Mei sat on the edge of the river, dipping her feet into it. She watched her reflection flicker in the depths. She frowned, tugging her hair out of its bun and letting it fall around her face. It framed her cheeks, long, auburn lengths that felt soft running between her fingers. She frowned deeper and turned away from the water, tugging her legs away.

She didn't know how to feel.

She pressed her face to her knees, sitting on a rock. She looked towards the bluish mountains in the distance, towards the city, anywhere but Yao's house. She didn't want to belong there. She wanted to go back. Despite what she had said to Xiao several times, that the expanse of grass of the open air was perfect for her, she started to feel that it was a lie. She felt that she had duped herself.

This wasn't her home.

It never would be.

Her home was far away. Her home was across the sea, in bustling Shanghai. Yao had threatened to sell her as a prostitute. She didn't care anymore. She didn't care if they stuffed her feet into bindings and forced her to walk on crushed bones. She didn't care if she suffered day and night. All she wanted was to be home.

And Yao wouldn't listen. He stubbornly denied all her pleas to go back. He denied all her attempts at describing her feelings. She had freedom, she didn't doubt that, but it was only so much. Yao didn't believe she was a person.

At times she believed he didn't thing anyone was a person. He treated Xiao and Kiku equally, as if neither meant much to her. They were simply tools, a means to an end. He didn't care what he did so long as he reached his goal.

Enraged, Mei beat her small fists against the earth and then against her thighs. She didn't hit hard enough to create a bruise. "I'm so weak," she muttered to herself.

She pressed her forehead back against her knees, staring out across the open fields.

She watched the blossoms roll in the wind, approaching her. A shadow flickered on the grass to her side. She looked up, startled.

The long, red robes gave Yao away. She turned up her head and looked at him. He stared forwards stoically. His hair was done in a simple braid, tied back to create a loop. He clasped his hands behind his back. His face was prideful and honorable, but also miserable and desperate. Mei got to her feet. Yao turned away. She took that as a hint to follow.

He led her across from the house, towards the mountains. As he walked, she expected he had some motive behind it. His feet were not moving randomly. She kept quiet, for fear of what he wanted to do. For a moment she expected he really would sell her to a flower house.

Instead of saying anything, he stopped next to a tree and turned to her. He lightly closed his fingers around her chin and tilted it upwards, so she looked at him. He tucked a strand of her hair behind an ear.

"Do you remember what I told you when you asked my age, child?" he asked gently.

"I… No, I don't remember. I apologize." She admitted shamefully.

"I said that I am older than a flower and younger than a mountain."

She nodded.

"Do you believe that since I said the flower is of youth that it is innocent? Do you think nothing bad could happen to a flower?"

"No. A flower can be eaten, or plucked, or stepped on."

"Yes, that is true. But the mountain, can it be hurt?"

"I…" Mei paused. "A mountain is a large rock. How can it be hurt?"

Yao looked at her solemnly. "A mountain can suffer earth quakes. A mountain can be set aflame. It takes much to damage a mountain, but it is not omnipotent."

"So a flower is weaker?"

"Yes, but it is a part of this earth still." Yao swept his hand across the horizon, directing her attention to the flowers dotting the pale green grass and the mountains cutting through the sky. "If I am the mountain and you are the flower, you understand that we both can be hurt. We can both be set aflame, as I have mentioned before. I could tell you to remember that everyone can be hurt, and that you are not alone. But I would sound redundant. You know this, child. Children are not fools. Simply, they are inexperienced, in a way."

Mei noticed a smile playing on his lips.

"Do you understand what I am asking of you?"

"No father."

"Then you must think about it."

"Yes father."

"I know you want to go home." He said with a sigh. He appeared to have gained several years with his long breath. "I want to as well."

She wondered where to look—where she even could look. She resorted to staring at the ground, her hands clamped before her.

"Why do you use him?" She asked quietly.

Yao's gentle expression melted.

"Is he another tool for you to use until it's blunt?" She began to demand.

Yao didn't respond.

"You're torturing him this way." Mei grew bolder. "I've seen how you manipulate him. You told him to go after the criminals first, so he'd trust you. You showed him your body. You made him trust you. Now, you know to kill those who work for him."

Mei glowered at him, her dark eyes like glistening gems. "Don't you realize he's a person too?"

"I know, child." Yao said, surprisingly. Mei had expected him to yell or admonish her. Instead he remained calm. "I have no other choice. Honda trusts too easily. Hopefully he can learn from this."

"And if he does?" she asked, gritting her teeth. "Who will he have to go to? Are you planning on killing all of his friends?"

"Mei, listen."

"I have nothing to listen to anymore." She said, tears burning in her eyes. She had been quiet too long. She didn't want to be the quiet little messenger girl anymore. She was older. She could fight for herself. She could do something! "I've seen how you treat him. He's not even a student. He's a sword you'll use until it breaks. Why? No, I know, for your gain. Or for the gain of whomever you're working for. But can't you see what you're doing? You're smart enough to stop it. Can't you? Aren't you?"

Yao shook his head slowly. "I cannot, child. I wish it was that easy."

"Why isn't it?" She snapped.

"Mei—!"

"No, please listen," the tears flowed now, "I'll do something if you don't."

"You'll get yourself killed."

Mei shook her head furiously. "I don't care if I do. At least I would have done something which is more than you can say." She stormed away.

She didn't have a plan, but she had the passion. She needed to work quickly. She couldn't let Kiku loose anymore friends of his. She couldn't watch in silent horror any longer. With a strengthened heart, she moved on.

She entered their garden. A plan began to bob in her mind. She grinned, happy to see something. Yes, she could sneak into the town and then—

The blade exited her body just as quickly as it entered, slicing her heart. She fell to the ground, blood pouring from the wound. She lay prostrate against the hard earth, her eyes wide open. Death consumed her veins.

She twitched slightly as her body was pushed to the side. Lin looked down at her half-sister, her eyes cold. The knife, slick with blood, hung from her hands. She looked up, towards where Yao stood. Yao didn't show any remorse. He didn't look at her for long, however.

Time was drawing closer to act.