Post by oni on May 12, 2006 18:02:07 GMT -5
My name is Amane Miharu, or was, many years ago.
Night fell tense and unsettled over the village of Ogawa, a clouded sky obscuring the star-scape, adding to the oppressive darkness. Rumors of invading Hanzagiri forces had electrified the villages of the eastern shores of Isamu-jima, bringing with it panic and visions of dark-clad assassins within every pool of shadows. I was 10, and my life would be forever changed by the sinister events about to transpire.
My elder brother Inji left our village when I was 8, well versed in the use of a blade, he'd sought employment at the Imperial Palace as a low ranking samurai. His departure had been bittersweet, My father and mother so proud to see him off to serve the Emperor Nakamura, yet solemn over the reality of what this would entail; their only other child being me, and I being a girl, our small patch of fertile land would become the inheritance of another's family line when my marriage was arranged.
It was the day after Setsubun, and I'd wrapped myself tightly around Inji's leg as he started down the path, my face damp with tears from the sort of all consuming, inconsolable misery only a child knows. He crouched down, smiling at me tenderly as he gently pryed my clutching fingers from around his calf. "Amane-chan, we'll see each other again soon, Father has promised to take you to Zento for the blossom festival." I nodded, choking back sobs, my nose runny and my damp face spattered with dirt. He wiped my face dry on the sleeve of his best Hakama-shita, and brushed the sodden fabric theatrically against his Hakama. He hugged me firmly, whispering in my ear, "I'll always be with you, and with all the work they'll have you doing in my absence the Blossom festival will be here before you know it... Now be strong, you're a Himaru." With that said he rose, giving me one last dotting smile, and began his journey to the Palace.
Contrary to what he said the time did not pass quickly, as is often the case when you're young. I labored from dawn until well after nightfall, helping my father tend to our meager crop of rice. We stopped only for meals, and a few hours of much needed rest through the night. Days turned into weeks, and finally word came by pigeon of my bothers travels. My father read the letter by lantern light as my mother fitted me for a new kimono for the festival. The fabric was soft, an iridescent blue to match my eyes. It had probably cost far more than should have been spent on such frivolity, but my father would have bought the luminous orbs of Trammel and Felucca from the night sky itself had he thought it would please me. "Inji made it safely to the Palace. He met a caravan of Noh performers who were heading there as well."
My father pinched the bridge of his nose, squinting at the parchment as my mother pinned the fabric around me and nodded for him to continue. "He sends his love to everyone, says he is getting on well in the buntai they've assigned him to, and cannot wait to see your face when you first lay eyes on Zento, Amane."
I smiled to myself, a quiet anticipation welling up deep inside me. Just a short while longer and I would make the trek to Makoto-jima with my father, and hug my brother once again.
The last few weeks flew by in an expectant haze, I was obedient, if absentminded in the tasks I had been given. The day of the festival finally arrived and Mother packed us off with two bento boxes for the trek to Zento. As we started into the woods, waving our goodbyes, my father held me at arms length by my shoulders and looked me sternly in the eyes. "Amane-chan, we must move swiftly and quietly so as not to disturb the Hiryu that nest within these woods."
He placed some soybeans in the palm of my hand and I grinned at him knowingly. "For the Oni's, Father?" "Yes." He replied, though his tone was quite urgent, not at all like the revelry of the Setsubun festival. I placed the beans safely within the folds of my obi, adjusted my new kimono, and followed my father into the dappled shadows of the dense woods. We walked in stealthy silence for hours until we came upon a natural clearing in the woods surrounding a small pond, where we stopped to eat our lunch. "The soybeans Amane, we must sanctify this place against the Oni's before we eat."
We threw our beans around the small clearing, chanting together, "Oni wa soto! Fuku wa uchi!" ...It all seemed so serious to father though.
After a delicious meal of sushi rolls and rice balls we continued on our way, my father chastising me several times for being too loud. Around supper time we made it to the moongate, which I found simply facinating... I wasn't allowed to inspect it thoroughly though, as my father cursed inaudibly under his breath, grabbed ahold of my hand, and took us through. The sensation was indescribable, and what met my eyes on the other side was unlike anything I'd ever seen before. I stepped back lightly to take it all in, the colours, sights, sounds and smells intoxicating to one so young, my mouth gaping slightly with awestruck wonder. We walked toward the market square, men and women of all ages and crafts hawking their wares. Our procession towards the center was slow, hampered by the clamoring sea of people here for the festival.
My brothers figure appeared as the sea of colours and noise parted momentarily, his old familiar grin dancing across a now leaner and slightly older face. He made his way over swiftly, picking me up and placing me on his broad shoulders in one fluid motion. After much familial greetings we headed for the Sake Saka tavern slowly, I made good use of my new found vantage point and scanned the jostling crowds, taking in as much as I could.
My father and Inji sat around the elegant low tables of the tavern, sipping their tea and discussing recent events, the rice crop, Inji's new Hiro-sode, and Mothers good health... Until quite suddenly Inji's voice dropped to an urgent and inaudible whisper. I could only catch a word or two, unsettling words like "Unrest" and "Usurpers", so instead I turned my attention momentarily to my tea before staring out the taverns open doorway to watch the commotion beyond.
After an hour or two we made our way back out amongst the fluxing crowds of people, I once more on my brothers shoulders. A troop of Noh performers were acting out the opera of Shakkyo, and we watched the Shite stomp about fiercely in his oni mask before heading towards Zento banks water gardens to watch the fireworks, as dusk was rapidly approaching. Beautiful explosions of blue, red and green caressed the night sky, and I sleepily rested my head against my brothers, smiling. All was as it should be in the world.
Night fell tense and unsettled over the village of Ogawa, a clouded sky obscuring the star-scape, adding to the oppressive darkness. Rumors of invading Hanzagiri forces had electrified the villages of the eastern shores of Isamu-jima, bringing with it panic and visions of dark-clad assassins within every pool of shadows. I was 10, and my life would be forever changed by the sinister events about to transpire.
My elder brother Inji left our village when I was 8, well versed in the use of a blade, he'd sought employment at the Imperial Palace as a low ranking samurai. His departure had been bittersweet, My father and mother so proud to see him off to serve the Emperor Nakamura, yet solemn over the reality of what this would entail; their only other child being me, and I being a girl, our small patch of fertile land would become the inheritance of another's family line when my marriage was arranged.
It was the day after Setsubun, and I'd wrapped myself tightly around Inji's leg as he started down the path, my face damp with tears from the sort of all consuming, inconsolable misery only a child knows. He crouched down, smiling at me tenderly as he gently pryed my clutching fingers from around his calf. "Amane-chan, we'll see each other again soon, Father has promised to take you to Zento for the blossom festival." I nodded, choking back sobs, my nose runny and my damp face spattered with dirt. He wiped my face dry on the sleeve of his best Hakama-shita, and brushed the sodden fabric theatrically against his Hakama. He hugged me firmly, whispering in my ear, "I'll always be with you, and with all the work they'll have you doing in my absence the Blossom festival will be here before you know it... Now be strong, you're a Himaru." With that said he rose, giving me one last dotting smile, and began his journey to the Palace.
Contrary to what he said the time did not pass quickly, as is often the case when you're young. I labored from dawn until well after nightfall, helping my father tend to our meager crop of rice. We stopped only for meals, and a few hours of much needed rest through the night. Days turned into weeks, and finally word came by pigeon of my bothers travels. My father read the letter by lantern light as my mother fitted me for a new kimono for the festival. The fabric was soft, an iridescent blue to match my eyes. It had probably cost far more than should have been spent on such frivolity, but my father would have bought the luminous orbs of Trammel and Felucca from the night sky itself had he thought it would please me. "Inji made it safely to the Palace. He met a caravan of Noh performers who were heading there as well."
My father pinched the bridge of his nose, squinting at the parchment as my mother pinned the fabric around me and nodded for him to continue. "He sends his love to everyone, says he is getting on well in the buntai they've assigned him to, and cannot wait to see your face when you first lay eyes on Zento, Amane."
I smiled to myself, a quiet anticipation welling up deep inside me. Just a short while longer and I would make the trek to Makoto-jima with my father, and hug my brother once again.
The last few weeks flew by in an expectant haze, I was obedient, if absentminded in the tasks I had been given. The day of the festival finally arrived and Mother packed us off with two bento boxes for the trek to Zento. As we started into the woods, waving our goodbyes, my father held me at arms length by my shoulders and looked me sternly in the eyes. "Amane-chan, we must move swiftly and quietly so as not to disturb the Hiryu that nest within these woods."
He placed some soybeans in the palm of my hand and I grinned at him knowingly. "For the Oni's, Father?" "Yes." He replied, though his tone was quite urgent, not at all like the revelry of the Setsubun festival. I placed the beans safely within the folds of my obi, adjusted my new kimono, and followed my father into the dappled shadows of the dense woods. We walked in stealthy silence for hours until we came upon a natural clearing in the woods surrounding a small pond, where we stopped to eat our lunch. "The soybeans Amane, we must sanctify this place against the Oni's before we eat."
We threw our beans around the small clearing, chanting together, "Oni wa soto! Fuku wa uchi!" ...It all seemed so serious to father though.
After a delicious meal of sushi rolls and rice balls we continued on our way, my father chastising me several times for being too loud. Around supper time we made it to the moongate, which I found simply facinating... I wasn't allowed to inspect it thoroughly though, as my father cursed inaudibly under his breath, grabbed ahold of my hand, and took us through. The sensation was indescribable, and what met my eyes on the other side was unlike anything I'd ever seen before. I stepped back lightly to take it all in, the colours, sights, sounds and smells intoxicating to one so young, my mouth gaping slightly with awestruck wonder. We walked toward the market square, men and women of all ages and crafts hawking their wares. Our procession towards the center was slow, hampered by the clamoring sea of people here for the festival.
My brothers figure appeared as the sea of colours and noise parted momentarily, his old familiar grin dancing across a now leaner and slightly older face. He made his way over swiftly, picking me up and placing me on his broad shoulders in one fluid motion. After much familial greetings we headed for the Sake Saka tavern slowly, I made good use of my new found vantage point and scanned the jostling crowds, taking in as much as I could.
My father and Inji sat around the elegant low tables of the tavern, sipping their tea and discussing recent events, the rice crop, Inji's new Hiro-sode, and Mothers good health... Until quite suddenly Inji's voice dropped to an urgent and inaudible whisper. I could only catch a word or two, unsettling words like "Unrest" and "Usurpers", so instead I turned my attention momentarily to my tea before staring out the taverns open doorway to watch the commotion beyond.
After an hour or two we made our way back out amongst the fluxing crowds of people, I once more on my brothers shoulders. A troop of Noh performers were acting out the opera of Shakkyo, and we watched the Shite stomp about fiercely in his oni mask before heading towards Zento banks water gardens to watch the fireworks, as dusk was rapidly approaching. Beautiful explosions of blue, red and green caressed the night sky, and I sleepily rested my head against my brothers, smiling. All was as it should be in the world.