'nabe' = hotpot
'hanten' = traditional Japanese winter coat
'sansai' = mountain vegetable


Learn to accept the inevitable:

the fall willow

knows when to abandon its leaves.

Tanehiko (1782-1842)


He stared at the white and yellow flowers on her palms. Their petals were thin and spindly – so delicate, just like the fingers that plucked them. If his own rough hands touched those petals, he thought that they might just crumple instantly.

"Look, Gin-san, this is a honeysuckle flower. It has properties that will help close wounds. I'll grind this first before I apply it on you. It's – "

"What on earth are you doing here?" He shot back. This won't probably drive her away. In fact, it was him who was starting to get used to her presence.

Her exuberant smile melted into a confused pout. When she tilted her head, she looked like a puppy trying to comprehend what it just heard. Blinking at him, she asked, "What am I doing here? Being with Gin-san, of course. I am around wherever you are."

"What are you, a stalker?"

"Stalker? What is that?"

"Ah, nevermind!"

"Is being a stalker a good thing? Then I don't mind being a stalker for Gin-san."

"You must have a screw loose if you say things like that."

"You're being so harsh, Gin-san. Are you doing that on purpose? If so, it doesn't make me love you any less."

'This girl is a hopeless idiot,' he thought. Since they met, she'd grown attached to him and the young silver-haired samurai could not understand why. Whatever it was, he thought, any feelings she harbored must be shallow. After all, who would fall for an unknown samurai like him who has no money and glory to his name? He had a wavy mop of hair that made him look unkempt, and his dead-fish eyes made him look perpetually bored. What's more was that he didn't have the time to waste on love. He was a student of the sword, a follower of the way of the samurai. And soon, he would journey with Shouyou-sensei.

However, the thought that she had feelings for him continued to weigh heavily at the back of his mind. How she ended up growing fondly of him confounded him to no end, and as a result, her affections carried a weight that made him feel unsure of himself.

Besides, she was an enigma.

She knew the forest like the back of her hand. Her particular expertise on medicinal plants was something she generously utilized to treat his cuts or wounds. And she even offered to indulge him in massages. He never told her when his muscles ached but she just seemed to know. He secretly admitted that her hands – cool and gentle – felt otherworldly.

"I'm just going to give these petals a grind, okie? Wait for me here, Gin-san!"

He sighed.

She was always going out of her way to help him.

"Look, woman, you don't have to–"

But she already left.

Gintoki could only watch her disappear into the trees, her lilac tresses swaying side to side. She said that her house was somewhere within the forest, but she never once let him pay a visit.

Elsewhere, a crow has started cawing.


The silver-haired samurai awoke, the ghost of his dream lingering in his thoughts.

He sat to shake away his grogginess, feeling a renewed vigor that he's never had in years. No longer did his wounds fester, and the dull ache in his muscles had also disappeared.

This sensation was so familiar that the lilac-haired woman in his dream came to his mind. Was that a memory? Now that he thinks about it, she was the only one who could effectively rid him of his physical afflictions. None of the best doctors in Edo could compare.

Running his fingers through his silvery hair, he wondered if the coincidence meant something. He hadn't seen the enigmatic woman for eight years but wouldn't be surprised why. No one would show themselves to the person who cruelly broke their heart. He told her to go away so that he and Tsukuyo would be able to live together in peace.

Tsukuyo. She wasn't her usual self last night. He tried to make love to her but was met with her rejection.

'Well, that's a first. Nobody has ever turned down the great Gintoki in bed. Not even the former courtesan of Yoshiwara, who is now my wife!' he thought. 'I might have to change my approach.'

He began to think of several different ways to invite his wife to bed, but his puckish thoughts were interrupted by the grumbling of his stomach. Since the futon was rolled beside him, he figured that Tsukuyo had gotten up early to make breakfast.

Donning his winter attire, he headed into the living room, expecting to find her there, stirring her special nabe over the fire. Instead, he found the room cold and empty. Frigid gusts of wind were blowing from the door that's left open, the flames on the hearth desperately trying to hold on.

A crack of twig and then, she appeared at the door with a basket in hand.

For a moment, Gintoki stood there, dazed, wondering if he was looking at someone else. Tsukuyo looked…ethereal. Maybe it was the way that the morning light shined upon her that made her look so radiant. Or, maybe it was his light green hanten that she was wearing. Whatever it was, Gintoki was besieged.

White condensed air escaped her lips as she breathed the cold morning weather. It gave Gintoki a brief image of her smoking her kiseru, remembering that he didn't smell it on her last night.

Upon noticing him, her serious expression quickly warmed into a smile. "Gin-sa–Gintoki! You're awake. Do you feel better now? I changed your bandages last night." Her smile became a little sad, "You had so many wounds."

He leaned into the doorframe as he folded his arms. "Well, you worked magic on me. I don't feel like I still have several Amanto bastards stabbing at me. I think I'm perfectly healed now that I've seen your face. Your turn?" he said with a smirk. He liked to flirt and watch her blush. Her face lit up but then it quickly vanished. This attempt didn't seem to reach her.

She forced another smile as she removed her shoes and stepped inside. Then she shut the door, sealing away the cold air. The fire on the hearth had, at last, begun to grow again.

"I'm glad that you're feeling better. I foraged some sansai from the forest because I thought that they should help you recover quicker."

Gintoki was pleasantly surprised. "Eh? You foraged?" he asked. Tsukuyo was not fond of the forest. She disliked the bugs and often easily suffered skin rashes from the wild vegetation. As a woman from Yoshiwara, the cloistered environment she grew up in made it hard for her to get used to the natural world.

He walked over and curiously peered over the basket. He saw horse chestnuts, shiitake and matsutake mushrooms, some wild persimmons, wild cherries, mulberries, mountain strawberries, and mountain asparagus. The rest were edible sprigs of vegetables, but their names escaped him.

She giggled at him, finding his speechlessness adorable. "I got you plenty of berries because you love sweets. Thankfully, the autumn season provides an abundance of these. Oh, I also found some akebi ," she said, bringing them out one by one. "And here are daylily leaves, butterbur leaves, and mugwort."

Gintoki kissed her cheek. "I didn't know that you could forage now. Thanks for getting these for me."

He took a piece of matsutake in his hand. "You even found matsutake! Do you know how expensive this is? This can fetch a good price in Edo – though I don't think we really need the money anymore."

She raised her eyebrows in genuine surprise. "Really? I just found it by the stand of red pine trees. It's pretty easy to find if you know where to look," she told him.

"You even know which plants are edible now. I think that the butterbur, daylily and mugwort would make for a great tempura. The matsutake mushrooms must be used on rice so that we can enjoy their natural flavor. I'll cook for us," he said. "For our next meal, the shiitake will – "

His eyes got distracted by the sight of familiar flowers left in the basket. White, yellow, and so delicate. Her eyes traced where he was looking.

"Oh, I found them right at the edge of the forest. Those are honeysuckle flowers and will make for a great medicine for your wounds."

He could not believe it. Those very flowers were in his dream last night.

Facing her, he asked,

"Tsukki, where did you learn this from? Did you meet someone in the forest to teach you these?"

Her eyes opened wide.

"Eh? Who should it be?"

"A strange woman, most likely."

She visibly flinched. "I…don't know what you're talking about, Gintoki. Besides, you were the one who taught me about these flowers."

It was his turn to be caught unguarded.

"I did?"

She bit her lip. "Yes. When I got cut."

"When was that?"

She averted her gaze. "Many years ago…but I can no longer remember when it was to be exact."

He didn't respond. She placed her hand on top of his. He wondered if the fire in the room wasn't enough to warm her fingers. He made a mental note of adding more firewood in the hearth.

"Is there something wrong?"

He looked at her and her concerned expression pulled him out of his thoughts. He shook his head.

"No, I don't think so." He took one flower out of the basket, spinning it between his fingers. "It's just that I dreamt of these flowers last night and the person who taught me about them. She always knew which plants to use for medicine. They always worked. It's no wonder why I even happened to teach you what I learned from her."

Silence befell on them.

"And…who was this woman?" she asked.

"She had this long lilac hair. Her name was…" He thought of wisteria petals, of iris flowers that shared the same color. They were swaying in the breeze like her hair always did. The sound of her name had visited him at last. "...Ayame. Her name was Ayame."

To his surprise, she threw herself at him, her arms around his neck. This act from his wife had struck an old cord within the confines of his memory, tugging at his heart. But he brushed it aside and settled on the reason that she was expressing her jealousy, telling him to give her all of his attention instead.

Unbeknownst to the samurai, the woman embracing him was no longer his wife, but the lilac haired woman whose name he had forgotten until now.

For many years, she'd convinced herself that she was no more but a shadow of his past. But last night, when he softly mumbled some syllables of her name in his sleep, it gave her hope that perhaps she still occupied some fragments of his memory. So when he finally remembered her name, she bursted with so much joy. In the spur of the moment, she let go of her reservations and embraced him like she used to. That was the time when she never cared about what he thought. She simply loved him wholeheartedly.

'Thank you for remembering me, Gin-san!'

Laying a hand on her back, the silver-haired samurai asked, "Oi, what came over you, all of a sudden? Throwing yourself at me like that. I could have used some of this last night as a welcome greeting. Or now if you're up to it." Gintoki said. She heard his smile through his voice. Ayame found his jokes endearing. Although it was painful that they weren't meant for her, she was convinced loving a human was worth it if it was Gin-san.

She shook her head in response to him.

'I just love you so much, that's all.'

"I love you so much too, woman," he replied.

She gasped.

"I wasn't supposed to blurt that out…" she said in embarrassment. She'd already acted uncharacteristically when she embraced Gin-san like this. Then she couldn't keep her mouth shut from proclaiming her love. All her worries were dispelled by the sound of Gin-san's warm chuckle. It made her feel giddy and warm as well.

For the both of them, the mood has changed to something more intimate. Gintoki took the chance to raise a question he had been meaning to ask for a long time.

"Say, Tsukki, since you don't want to move far away, what do you think about growing our family?"

Ayame broke the embrace to look at him. She had him lying on the floor but he seemed to pay no mind about it. There was a faint smile gracing his lips and his red eyes were intently waiting for her answer.

She wondered about how her face looked. After all, a turbulence of emotions had begun to brew from the pit of her stomach. She was afraid, jealous, sad, incredulous.

"Grow…our family?" she repeated slowly.

He pressed his hand on her waist as if holding a valuable treasure.

"Yes, Tsukki. It's just a passing thought, you know. I've retired from the war and we've got more than enough money to go on for the rest of our lives. We can have children now, if you want to. I want to. We'll be good parents to them."

Ayame felt like she just heard him speak an unknown language. She simply failed to understand the humans' urge to have children. And she was terrified.

Gin-san has started to make long-term plans with Tsukuyo, who is already dead. All of a sudden, the reality that she was just pretending, that she belonged to a different world, had come crashing down on her.

She needed to go – soon – for Gin-san's sake, and for her own heart as well. The longer she stays, the harder it would be to leave him. Being with him was like being addicted to a forbidden fruit.

"Tsukki?" Gintoki called.

Ayame began to hate the sound of this name, Tsukki. To be called Ayame would be far better because it was hers.

Today, Gin-san finally remembered her name and that was enough a parting gift for her. Once she disappears, she will never again show her face to him.

She looked at him again. "I'm sorry, Gintoki. I think I need to rest a little."

Gintoki pulled himself up into a sitting position. He kissed her lips.

"I shouldn't have asked that question. We're also fine with just the two of us," he said softly.

Guilt pooled from the pit of her stomach at the sight of Gin-san's rueful expression. 'It's not your fault. It's my fault. I've been fooling you.'

Ayame hoped that she could have made him happy for longer, but at the end of the day, this was the best that she could do for him.

She shook her head. "Mm-mm. It's a natural thing to ask, right? A husband and wife are often supposed to bear children."

"We don't have to go down that route."

She smiled sadly. 'You could have.'

"I'll just rest, Gintoki," she said, standing up to excuse herself. She didn't allow him to say more and quickly shut the door behind her. She pleaded that he got the message.

Her heart was beating hard in her chest. She reached from her sleeve and pulled out the leaves of a Japanese pieris.

She picked two types of plants this morning. The first were the sansai that were meant to nourish the body. They were meant for Gin-san. And then there's the other plant, one that she grabbed from the mountain thickets. The leaves were waxy and green. Inconspicuous in appearance and yet it has killed a number of grazing animals in the mountains.

Once it is ingested, she will begin to experience dizziness, blurred vision, and double focus. The more serious symptoms follow shortly and will include hypersalivation, severe headaches and extreme vomiting. Then her heart will stop and her physical body will manifest death. She would become its willing victim and leave no evidence behind.

Gin-san will finally lose his wife just like how the natural course of life had intended.

'I will simply go back to being a yosei and content myself with watching over Gin-san. Tsukuyo, you were loved dearly by him. How I envy you.'

Like a leaf departing from its branch, she consumed the poison.


Gintoki was able to remember Ayame's name when the image of iris flowers came to his mind because 'ayame' literally means iris flower in Japanese. :)

Also - hurray! An update that's so soon! I am indeed inspired because I'm on a vacation. The rainy weather here is perfect for writing + I'm surrounded by trees and mountains. The other day I was at the park and couldn't help but finish this chapter up. However, I'll be leaving soon as well. Might publish one more chapter before I leave.

Anyway, this story is getting to the middle. Please continue supporting my work. 3 Thank you~

**Additional readings:
Honeysuckle 'Lonicera japonica' for wound repair: www. ncbi. nlm. nih. gov/pmc/articles/PMC3577469/
Poison severity of 'Pieris japonica' or Lily of the Valley shrub: plants. ces. ncsu. edu/plants/pieris-japonica/