Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei
Note: I've noticed that this story is experiencing frequent mood swings when it comes to style. Hopefully this isn't too jarring.
"She was pregnant and cried out in pain as she was about to give birth."—Revelations, 12:2
A Woman Clothed With the Sun
There were fireflies.
Asato loved fireflies; he once caught some in a jar, and planned to continue to do so until his first pets were found dead in the morning, still clinging to the side of the glass if not belly-up on the floor of the jar. Ruka was upset and cried with him, and though Aimi comforted them, Asato thought he heard her sniffling after she had shut the door to her room.
"Asato-otouto?"
The firefly landed on the crook of his thumb, somehow managing to avoid the dried blood and dark pink scratches.
"Asato-otouto?"
It looked for a second that the firefly had spoken and an incredible sense of honor overwhelmed Asato, so much so that when Ruka crouched in front of him to peer into his face he thought the Virgin herself knelt before him.
"Can you stand up?" Madonna was replaced by sister; the firefly flew away and with it, Asato's ignorance of his pain. Suddenly his whole body stung with open red sores and ached with purple-black bruises. Silently, he shook his head. Dirt and dried tears streaked his face.
Ruka's hands rested on his neck and she lay her head down atop his. He hadn't the heart nor strength to tell her she was fingering a fresh wound and her hair lay intermingled with his eyelashes.
"Mom's hurt," Ruka whispered tearfully, mouth dry; her salvia stuck to her lips. "Real bad. Daisuke-san took her to the hospital."
Asato's hands felt something kick them.
"Tomoko-san and Emiko-san are out looking for you. Daddy's really worried…"
"I don't wanna," Asato mumbled into the dirt. "I don't wanna g'ome."
"You gotta. Asato-otouto, you gotta. Mom wants to know you're okay…Daddy even stayed behind to make sure you got home safe."
"No…no…"
"Don't be so mean!" Ruka jerked up and barely restrained herself from slapping her brother. "Mom and Daddy and everyone are worried! And what if you need a doctor, too? I'm not gonna let my little brother die! You're so selfish, Asato!"
Each word hit harder and hurt deeper than anything he had been assailed with. With difficulty Asato managed to lift his head and look into Ruka's eyes, bright with tears.
"I'm sorry," Ruka said, a knot in her throat. "I'm so sorry, Asato-otouto."
Asato had no way of knowing it was the look on his bloodied face that made her recant, but in any case the guilt had already settled like a rock in his stomach. With difficulty he managed to sit upright. Ruka stood and offered her hand; he stumbled as she helped him to his feet. Her grip on his hand strengthened as they walked, she more guiding him than anything else.
"Where did you find him, Ruka?"
"Out by that place with the reeds." Both Ruka and Asato withered under the voice of their father, customary sternness now decorated with a kind of old age both found disconcerting.
"Asato." The boy didn't have the strength left to flinch. "Why didn't you stop when I told you to?"
"I…didn't know it was you."
"We could've been spared all of this."
"I was scared," Tsuzuki half-whispered, the closest he'd ever come to defending himself.
"Daddy, how's Mom?" Ruka asked pointedly.
"I don't know, do you think I've been in Tokyo, waiting for your brother to come home?" Takashi snapped. Ruka's face fell and her fingers twitched around Asato's hand; Takashi instantly regretted what had caused the looks on the two's face. "Asato, go get cleaned off. We're going to see your mother as soon as you do. And for Heaven's sake, Ruka, let go of him, for once!"
"No."
"Excuse me?"
"I'm not gonna," Ruka said, her face white but set. "And you shouldn't…you shouldn't say things like that to him, Daddy. You hurt him when you do."
The urge to slap Ruka, to put her in her place, rose within Takashi, but was quickly drowned out by the sudden premonition he saw of her as an adult, another Aimi begging for love for another cursed child.
"Fine," Takashi said through clenched teeth, trying to keep the image of a bloody, screaming Aimi flailing in the butler's arms, reaching out for Takashi, begging to know where her son was. "He's yours from now on, Ruka. Now just…just go. Get Emiko to help you. Your mother is waiting for us."
Asato could barely concentrate during the following days. He had fallen asleep on the carriage ride to Tokyo, and woke up in a daze only to learn that they wouldn't be seeing Aimi; she couldn't stop bleeding. The fog that he had awakened in seemed determined to follow him, like a faithful dog, like Ruka. Takashi left all of them at the house, and the quietness under the servants' half-authority was only broken by Ruka's records of waltzes and reels, dances Aimi had encouraged her to learn, "to snag a fine English gentleman". Asato watched her practicing with an invisible partner—her instructor kept away from the house out of courtesy—and tried to imagine what it would be like if she had a tangible one.
When the police came to demand names from Asato, he didn't give them. He could barely remember who had been there that day, and realize with a start that he had never learned their names to begin with; no introductions were needed once they had spotted his purple eyes and heard his family name. The police seemed all too relieved to learn this, "Probably because it's their spawn what's put Aimi-sama in the hospital," Tomoko spat to the other servants, dropping ice in the officers' tea.
Daiki remained shut up in his room and only appeared for meals.
"It's your fault Mother's in this condition," he informed Asato one night over dinner.
"You shut your mouth, Daiki!" Ruka snapped.
Asato stared into his bowl of rice and said nothing.
Hideyoshi and Hiroto were irrepressible in their fives years of age; every once in awhile a servant commanded them to "Hush!". But even they somehow knew that something was wrong, and their play had turned mostly into loud whispers and being intentionally underfoot. They were the first to see Emiko close up the room that had been set aside for the sixth child.
Takashi returned three weeks after disappearing alone to Tokyo. Asato and Ruka were drowning out the world with a dance she was beginning to teach him, and missed the weakened, thinned, pallid Aimi in Takashi's arms, her empty womb noticeable as she refused to relinquish the kimono designed for maternity she had been wearing during the attack. Daiki, Hideyoshi, and Hiroto were all there to greet them, but the first Ruka and Asato knew of it was from the sound of a coughing fit, followed by retching and then Takashi's soothing voice.
"It's pneumonia, they say," Daisuke whispered to the other servants, warming Aimi's tea. "They weren't careful enough in surgery."
"No," Emiko said, chopping leeks slowly and then dumping them in a kettle of boiling broth. "It's grief."
"Takashi, my baby?"
"…Buried, Aimi." Takashi refused to look up from the book he wasn't reading.
"I meant…I meant Asato, Takashi."
"He is well. His wounds were superficial."
"You know he can't be—" she was cut off as she lost the battle to another phlegm-filled cough. Takashi abandoned his façade to wrap his arm around her shoulders and take her hands with his free one. The veins in her hand were raised and pushed the stripe of grainy skin over them up, and he tried to smooth them with his thumb, unsuccessfully.
"Here." He placed a rag to her face and wiped away the thick, yellow-green sputum. "You shouldn't overexert yourself."
"You shouldn't ignore him."
"Lie down." He stood upright and gently pushed his wife against the pillows.
"He's going to need you, Takashi."
"Don't upset yourself."
"He's your son. He has our name."
"Aimi, you're going to make yourself worse."
As if on cue, a searing pain ripped through Aimi's chest. Her twisted face was the only indication. "Promise me you won't abandon him."
"Aimi…"
"Promise me."
"I…I promise."
"Swear it?"
"Yes. Now go to sleep. Please."
Aimi smiled. Her eyes were clouded. "I love you."
"I; you."
Takashi left the room when Aimi slept to find two others resting. The children had been banned from the room to protect their health, but his two middle children had taken to haunting the surrounding hallway like the most loyal sentinels. But even sentinels needed sleep, and the warm summer day's sunset had lulled the eight- and nine-year-olds into a nap, leaning up against the wall outside the door, using each other's heads as pillows.
"That's dangerous, you know," he informed the two sleepers, half-heartedly, subconsciously keeping his voice low so as not to stir them. "You two are the most impractical…"
He knelt down and reached for his daughter first, gently flinging her arms over one of his shoulders and wrapping his arm around the back of her leg. He nearly stood but hesitated, watching Asato slowly slide down the wall now that his support had gone. Takashi grabbed his arm before he could slump to the floor; he slept soundly in spite of the rough touch. Takashi paused again, and then jerkily pulled Asato into a facsimile of the way he carried Ruka, and stood.
It was the longest time, Takashi realized as he put Asato down to sleep after depositing Ruka in her room, that he had touched his…Aimi's son.
"Haruna is leaving," Emiko informed the kitchen.
"What? Why?" Tomoko asked, looking up from where she had been washing dishes.
"She's with child, and this…the incident spooked her."
"I don't blame her," Kazuko said. "This isn't exactly the safest job in the world, with Asato around…"
"With those neighborhood hell-brats around, you mean," Tomoko corrected pointedly. "The boy doesn't hold up a sign, y'know."
"With those eyes, he does," Hayate said, sawing a loaf of bread in half.
"Every time he leaves the house, something bad happens," Kazuko continued. "Honestly, sometimes I wish Aimi-sama had let Takashi—"
"If you finish that sentence I won't be responsible for what I do," Emiko snapped, her hand dangerously close to a knife.
"Emiko, even when he's in the house…doesn't it seem odd to you?" Hayate asked. "There've been strange noises hereabouts ever since he was born. Haruna told me she's seen funny things around his room. And sometimes those eyes of his…"
"I think his eyes are just lovely," Tomoko said, viciously scrubbing a bowl with her soapy rag.
"Well, I think his eyes are the reason why Aimi-sama won't make old bones."
"You be quiet!" Tomoko whipped around and flung her rag at Kazuko. "Don't you ever have anything decent to say about anybody? For Heaven's sake, do you have any idea what it's like to be that boy?"
"I don't care," Kazuko snarled. "All I care about is the fact that I've known Aimi-sama since we were little girls, and she's not going to live out the month."
"If you cared at all about Aimi-sama you wouldn't say such horrible things about her children," Emiko spat.
"That thing barely qualifies as a child. I'm half-expecting Takashi-sama to rid us all of it once Aimi-sama passes."
"And I'm half-expecting you to get fired if you keep up the noise," Daisuke said, entering the kitchen. "I can hear you all the way down the hall; do you think the rest of the house is deaf?"
"I don't care; they should hear it," Kazuko snapped. "That little monster killed his mother, and everyone here knows it."
That little monster killed his mother.
That little monster…
…killed his mother.
That monster…
Killed…
Mother…
Monster.
Monster.
Killed.
Mother.
Killed.
Killed.
Monster killed…
Mother.
Mother…"Mom isn't dead," Ruka told him. "You're not a monster."
"Takashi…I think it's time."
"Aimi?"
She coughed. This time there was blood.
"Emiko, bring the children."
"Sir?"
"Go get all of them and bring them to their mother. She needs to see them."
"Don't get too close to me, now," Aimi said weakly, watching her small herd of children clamoring towards the mother they hadn't been allowed to see. "You don't want to get sick, too."
"We don't care, Mom," Ruka said, dragging Asato forward, towards Aimi's bed, despite every adult's protests. Asato hung back slightly behind his sister, hiding his face behind her shoulder.
"Well, I care, Ruka," Aimi said, though indulgently, and coughed into her hand. Quickly she slipped her fistful of expectorate underneath her blanket. "None of my babies are ready to join me yet."
Ruka stepped back beside Asato in fear as Aimi seemingly emptied her lungs in her hands; Takashi went forward to take her in his arms, and her three remaining sons, with no one to prevent them, grouped together on the other side of the bed.
"Takashi, you make sure you wash off before you touch the children," Aimi instructed feebly, shaking in her husband's arms. He held her tighter to calm her, without success. "Okay…okay then. This is it, darlings."
"Mother—" Daiki started forward.
"Hush, Daikkun; don't you ever hush?" Aimi smiled at her firstborn. "Though…I think I'll miss your chatter. Look after your siblings, now. Father's got an awful lot of work to do…keep the twins behaved, okay? My dear little twins…"
"Take them out of here," Takashi ordered through gritted teeth, seeing Hideyoshi and Hiroto's uncomprehending eyes widen. "Aimi, you're scaring them."
"Yes, yes, take them out…" Aimi agreed, her eyes beginning to cloud. "Put them to bed, please, Emiko-chan…"
"Come…come on," Emiko said, her voice and lips shaking, taking either twin by either hand and pulling them out the door despite their protesting cries.
"Hi-kun, Hi-kun, be good, don't give her trouble," Aimi urged. "I love you. Sleep tight…"
"Aimi, stop it, please."
"Oh, hush, Takashi-koi. Hush, now, please…Daiki gets it from you, you know."
"Mommy—"
Aimi's head turned toward her thirdborn, who hadn't even raised his head to whisper his plea at her.
"Asato-kun…Mommy isn't angry at you," Aimi whispered. "Mommy's glad she had you. Remember…remember what I said? When you're upset, I look forward to when…I love it when you smile. Smile for me…please, for my sake, Asato-kun."
Asato's face finally showed itself; his lips were lifted up at the corners, supported by the memory of the last time he had been happy; his eyes were shut lightly and his head tilted to kept tears from spilling forth.
"Thank you, Asato…you're a good boy."
"Aimi?"
Aimi's head leaned back into Takashi's shoulder. Her eyes were rolled up, and a trail of blood stained the corner of her mouth. Her breathing, steeped in fluid, was painful to watch and to experience.
"'The dragon stood...in front of the woman who was about to give birth'…"
"What?"
"…'so that he might devour her child…the moment it was born. She gave birth to a son, a male child, who will'…no. 'And her child was snatched up to God…and to His throne. The woman…fled…into the desert…to a place prepared for her…by God…where she might be…taken…care of'…"
"Ready to go, Tsuzuki-san?"
Asato blinked the tears out of his eyes. He started, held back only by Ruka's death grip in his hand. He saw two official-looking men at Aimi's bedside now, between the mattress and his brothers.
"Yes…I think so," Aimi replied, but her gaze fell elsewhere than the new comers. The shorter of the two turned his head to follow Aimi's gaze, and his eyes rested on Asato.
"'S my mom," Asato whispered, staring back at the man, gaze unwavering.
"'The woman was given the two wings of a great eagle'," the man continued, his eyes soft. Aimi smiled her approval. "'So that she might fly to the place prepared for her in the desert, where she would be taken care of for a time, times and a half time, out of the serpent's reach'."
"What the hell are you talking about, Konoe?" the man's companion grunted. "Let's go."
"Mother?" Daiki asked, and suddenly the fog that had enveloped Asato for days was lifted. The two men disappeared, leaving Aimi's still body behind them in Takashi's arms.
"'Therefore rejoice, you heavens and you who dwell in them'," Takashi hoarsely forced himself to say. His hands shook in place of Aimi. "'But woe to the earth and sea, because the devil has…gone down to you'."