The Dragon's Flower

by Wyn Estelle Owens

  “O-oh, of course. That would be lovely, Shogun-dono.”

  “Excellent!” The Shogun beamed, then bowed. “If you would follow me, Isao-san, Empress-sama.”

  He swept off in a flutter of robes, and Isao and Hanako and Daisuke followed after him into the palace. Eventually they made their way to a private room, where the Shogun took a seat upon a zabuton and motioned for them to do the same. When they had sat, the Shogun bowed his head.

  “Forgive me, my Empress, I have forgotten to introduce myself. I am Miyamoto Tatsuya, SHogun of Karigane for these three years past.” He smiled softly and said, “I owe your husband a great debt of gratitude, and I express my sorrow at what has become of him.”

  Hanako felt a strange tightening of ehr throat, so she merely nodded in acceptance of his sorrow and condolences. With that out of the way, Tatsuya curiously tilted his head and examined Hanako closely.

  “You have blue eyes,” He said, and smiled. “Do you know, that only the Miyamoto and Miyatatsu clans bear eyes of that color? They were a gift from the Immortal Goose, showing her favor. That is enough for me to believe you are the Empress, but proof will be needed when we speak to the Shoguns.”

  “Would the world of the Imperial Dragon be enough?” Tamotsu Eiji said, and they all spun around to see him calmly sitting upon a zabuton, his vulpine son draped across his shoulders like a ruff of scarlet fur.

  Tatsuya flinched, Isao blinked, and Hanako, who was by now the most used to such occurences, merely smiled happily.

  “Shogun Tatsuya-dono, allow me to introduce Tamotsu Eiji-dono, the Imperial Dragon and spouse of the Immortal Goose.”

  Tatsuya bowed. (there is a heck of a lot of bowing going on in this story. What i get for writing medieval japanese fantasy, i suppose)

  The Imperial Dragon bowed back, and Akashi Keiji slipped from his shoulder in order to trot over to Hanako and snuggle up against her side.

  “Now, Tamotsu Eiji-dono,” Hanako said, “Why have you come here?”

  The Dragon stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I was under the impression that you had two goals in coming here--one, in order to lead the army of the united countries, and secondly, in order to retrieve the future emperor from his misery.”

  Hanako nodded, and buried one hand in Akashi Keiji’s fur in order to distract herself from the sorrow that welled up in her heart. “Yes, that is true.”

  “Then,” Tamotsu Eiji said, and smiled, “I would be most glad to offer my assistance in your second venture, my Empress.”

  *****

  They decided to wait until dawn of the next day to go after Shichiro, so Tatsuya ordered rooms to be prepared for them, and escorted them to their new quarters.

  After Isao had disappeared into his room with a Daisuke who was, “Asbolutely n’seepy, papa!”, Tatsuya took Hanako to her room. Hanako bowed to him in thanks, but he reached out and stopped her before she could slide open the shoji door.

  “Would you mind if I see your child?” Tatsuya asked, and Hanako smiled, removing Kenshin from the sling on her back.

  “This is my son and Heir, Nishimura Tatsuo Kenshin.” She said, stroking fingers over his feathery dark hair. Tatsuya held out his arms, and Hanako settled Kenshin into his grip. The baby stirred, and sleepily blinked open his blue eyes.

  “Ah, he has your eyes, I see!” Tatsuya said. “And mine, I suppose. I was told that you had a daughter as well?”

  “Yes, Misaki. She has her father’s eyes,” the princess said, smiling softly, “For which I am very grateful.”

  Tatsuya stared at her for a moment. “Have you heard of how I became Shogun, Hanako-sama?”

  Hanako shook her head, and Tatsuya smiled wistfully. “My father Washio was Shogun before me, but when I was fourteen years old my uncle slew him in his sleep, and claimed the seat of Shogun for himself. I was forced to flee, with only my old teacher Isui as a companion.

  “My uncle sent his men after us, and eventually they managed to catch us. Isui and I were doing our best to defend ourselves, but we were only two. It was then that a figure leaped forth from the trees and set upon our attackers, slaying them all. Never before had I seen such swordmanship, such skill and grace. I immediately sank to my knees and begged him to help me regain my country, and I suppose he took pity on me, for he did.” The shogun grinned. “He even asked his older brother to advise me in the ways of ruling my country. I was only fourteen, you know, and I didn’t expect to be Shogun for many long years yet.

  “Shichiro-san is very dear to me, Hanako-sama.” Tatsuya said. “He has always been a good friend, a companion I could trust.” He bowed, deeply, his torso parallel to the floor. “I am very, very grateful that you are here, to care for him, for he has been all but alone for a very long time.”

  “And I thank you for being his friend,” Hanako said, and smiled brilliantly. “He does not have many of them, and I am glad that there were people there for him before we met.”

  Tatsuya bowed in acknowledgement. “I assure you, it was my greatest pleasure. Goodnight, then, and restful dreams for yourself and your son. I wish you the greatest success on your venture tomorrow.”

  Hanako stepped inside her room, smiling gently. “I thank you, Tatsuya-dono. Goodnight.”

  *****

  They left Daisuke with his “Uncle Tas-ya”, but Hanako refused to leave Kenshin behind.

  “Shichiro is stubborn, and I don’t know if I alone am enough to convince him,” She had said. “Besides, no one should keep a father and his child apart.” So Daisuke patted Kenshin’s head and told him to be a good boy, and the baby was bound upon his mother’s back for safekeeping.

  They went out to the gardens where Tamotsu Eiji was waiting, peacefully standing next to the koi pond, his iridescent hair gleaming strangely in the early light.

  “Are you ready?” The Imperial One said, and Hanako nodded.

  Tamotsu Eiji tilted his head to one side thoughtfully. “You’ve never seen me in my natural form, have you?”

  Hanako shook her head. “No, I’m afraid not.”

  “Then,” The Dragon said, and grinned. “Prepare to be amazed.”

  There was a roaring and a sudden rush of wind, and where the Man had stood there rested three giant claws. Astonished, they looked up. Floating in the air was a jade-green dragon, but his scales gleamed with hints of other colors--red and purple and gold, but most of all blue. The blue bled into and colored nearly all his mane and whiskers, but his horns were of gold.

  The great maned head leaned closer, and a huge vermillion eye blinked at them. Hanako’s eyes were wide in surprise, Isao’s face was blank in an attempt to not gape like a fool, and Tatsuya was grinning like an idiot.

  “Very impressive, Tamotsu Eiji-sama!” He shouted.

  “I am glad you approve, little shogun,” The dragon rumbled, his voice sounding like the distant sound of thunder. “Now, Isao-san, my Empress, get on my back, and I’ll take you to where the little ronin awaits you.” His tail swept around and gently touched the ground in front of Hanako and Isao.

  Tatsuya looked rather envious that Isao and Hanako were getting to ride the dragon and not him.

  Isao shrugged and smiled, stepping up onto the tail, and then turned to offer Hanako a hand. She took it gratefully, and together they made their way up the sinuous back of the Imperial Dragon, finally settling just behind his head.

  “Take good care of Daisuke while i’m gone, Tatsuya!” Isao yelled. “We should be back with my foolish little brother shortly, don’t you worry!”

  “I’ll be waiting!” The Shogun of Karigane replied. “I wish you good luck!”

  “Oh, I don’t need your wishes for luck,” Isao said, smirking. “I make my own!”

  “We’ll bring him back, Tatsuya-dono,” Hanako added. “I promise!”

  Tatsuya lifted a hand in farewell, and the Imperial Dragon lifted off into the sky and flew away.

  ****

  The sun was just passing the zenith of the sky when Tamotsu Eiji touc
hed down in the rice fields surrounding a little town to the east of the North-South road, between Kyouka and the border with Masaki.

  Isao slid down the side of the dragon to the ground, and then turned around to catch Hanako when she attempted the same feet. Free at last from his riders, the Dragon gave his body a shake, and then he was no longer a Dragon. In his place stood a peasant boy, some years older than Daisuke, with black hair that gleamed oddly in certain lights, and dark brown eyes that would glow crimson at the right angle. The boy smiled up at Hanako and took her hand.

  “If you would follow me, little Empress, I’ll take you to where your husband is,” he said, and Hanako smiled.

  “Oh yes, thank you, Tamotsu-chan.” She said, with a wink at the boy, who grinned back at her.

  “RIght then, Isao-san, Hanako-chan, this way!” And he strolled off through the rice fields, a dragon in a child’s body leading an Empress by the hand and a Shogun following behind.

  They left the rice fields and walked down the main street of the town, Hanako and Isao glancing right and left in search of Shichiro. Every so often a man of his height would catch their eyes, but when they turned to look at him they were disappointed.

  Hanako felt her heart sinking in her chest and she bit her lip, looking down at the ground, willing her eyes not to fill with tears.

  I must not give up hope! I need to be strong, for Shichiro!

  Kenshin stirred on her back and let out a tiny cry, and Hanako stopped, twisting her head to try to catch a glimpse of her baby or whatever had disturbed him.

  It was then she saw him, and her heart nearly stopped.

  He was huddled on the ground against the side of a building, his sword propped against his shoulder. His clothes--ones that Hanako had once carefully repaired with dutiful stitches, were worn and tattered and filthy, his once-white hakama a dingy grey-brown, and his gi was stained and sagging with holes and tears. One leg was brought against his chest and the other was stretched out along the ground, his feet bare and dirty, his sandals no-where to be found.

  His head was hanging limply, his hair was dull and loose and stringy, draping over his face, and dirty, greyed bandages were bound around his eyes, knotted carelessly in the back with the ends trailing down.

  This man, this miserable, filthy, pathetic man was nothing like the brave young ronin that had stumbled into her pagoda one misty morning. She stared at him, her heart half leaping in joy, half stumbling in shock and sorrow.

  She felt a tug at the sleeve of her yukata, and she looked down into the solemn dark eyes of the dragon-boy. He pressed a rice ball into her hand, and one vague corner of her mind wondered where it had come from.

  “Go on, give him this. He probably hasn’t had anything for a while.”

  Hanako felt her heart clench again, but the prompt stirred her into movement at last, and with careful steps approached the form that sat there in the dust. She was vaguely aware of Isao watching from behind her, solemn and quiet, filled with the pain they shared.

  Hanako stopped in front of him, and the man stirred and slowly lifted his head, and Hanako’s heart ached for the eyes she would never see again. Unable to get her unwilling tongue to move, she quietly took his hand and pressed the riceball into his palm, gently closing his fingers around it.

  The man held the riceball thoughtfully for a moment before speaking. “You have nice hands, ojou-san. My wife had hands very like your’s, once.”

  His voice was rough and raspy from disuse, but Hanako would know it anywhere, and a response slipped forth from her lips without her permission.

  “Shichiro.”

  The result was immediate. Shichiro stiffened, his expression twisting in mixed wonder and horror, and he recoiled, dropping the riceball and clutching his sword to his chest.

  “Ha-hana--no, no no, you have to leave me, you can’t stay here! You can’t, I--!”

  “Shichiro-san!” She pled, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. “Where do I belong, then, if i cannot be by my husband’s side? Do you not want me anymore?”

  “No!” he yelled, his voice thickening. “No, no, not that, but… I can’t be with you! I’m cursed, I only bring bad luck and ill fate wherever I go--”

  “I wouldn’t say that, little brother,” Isao interrupted. “True, you do tend to have strange luck sometimes, like that time you tried to duck out of the rain in Konami and ended up in a Yakuza den, which somehow resulted in a chase and street-fight involving my shinobi in a typhoon… but I’ve never seen that translate to anyone else.” He leveled a glare at his little brother, who had frozen in shock.

  “You’re not cursed, Shichiro, no matter what our fool of a father or his courtiers may say.”

  Shichiro twitched, then bit his lip, turning his head and his covered gaze away. “I can’t risk it, big brother, I can’t, I can’t lose her, too--”

  Isao tugged on his topknot distractedly, his jaw clenched in agitation. “You will lose her, if you let her slip through your fingers like this!”

  But Shichiro was silent, stubbornly looking away.

  Hanako took a deep breath, screwed up her courage, and reached to grab his hands again. However, as soon as the tips of her fingers brushed his hands, he jerked back, scrambling to the side in an effort to avoid his wife.

  “Stay away, Hanako! The curse; I couldn’t protect you! I… I’m not strong enough…”

  Hanako, slowly, gently, slid her hands onto his cheeks, fingers feathering across the sides of his face, the tips of her fingers tentatively caressing the bottom of the bandages bound across his eyes. He flinched at the contact, but Hanako sat still. “My dearest husband…” She said gently, “It doesn’t matter.”

  His mouth dropped open. Her lips twisted into a sad smile that was full of love (though he could not see), and slowly she bent her head so her forehead rested against his own. “Dearest, no one is strong enough alone.”

  A trembling hand reached up and groped through the air, finally brushing across Hanako’s nose and sliding its way to her cheek. She tilted her head into the slight contact, her heart thrumming with joyful sorrow. “But, dearest Shichiro-san, that’s all right. The Dragon blessed you to take care of me, and the Heavenly Emperor put you in that place. And therefore I believe that even if you are not ‘strong enough’ for everything, you will still always be enough to save me. Even… even without your eyes.”

  The hand began to shake, so she slipped one of her own free to press Shichiro’s palm firmly against her cheek. “Do you think that something like a mere lack of sight would be enough to disable the guardian that the Heavenly Emperor blessed?”

  There was a long, strained silence, before Shichiro hesitantly shook his head. IT was barely more than a twitch of movement, but Hanako felt it, and felt hope swell full and bright. “Besides,” She whispered, “Even if you could no longer wield a sword in my defense, you will always remain Shichiro, my dearest husband whom I love. And for me, that will always be enough.”

  “Why?” Shichiro whispered, his voice breaking.

  “Because you’re Shichiro, who gets his hat stolen by goats and who befriends strange girls in pagodas,” Hanak whispered, pressing her forehead against his own. “And because you’re the father of my children.”

  There was a second as the words processed in Shichiro’s mind, and then his face went utterly blank. Seeing her moment, Hanako carefully removed Kenshin from his sling and settled him in his father’s arms, carefully adjust Shichiro’s grip.

  “Hanako…” Shichiro breathed as he felt a weight, warm and soft, breathing and wriggling, settle in his arms. “...what is this?”

  “This,” Hanako said, her voice flooding with joy, “Is our firstborn son, Kenshin, who bears the Dragon’s Mark.”

  Shichiro felt a warm wetness well up where his eye had been, staining the scratchy bandages wrapped about his face, and he instinctively clutched the child closer. “My son.” He whispered.

  “We have a daughter, also,” Hanako added softly. “M
isaki. She is very pretty, and Isao-dono says that she looks like me, but she has your eyes.”

  Shichiro’s heart stuttered, unsure how to deal with all this. First a son, and now a daughter? “And Kenshin, what does he look like?”

  “I think he is very handsome.” Hanako said, “And Isao swears you looked just like him, when you were a babe, though I wouldn’t know. But he has my eyes, the blue eyes of the Miyatatsu.”

  “I am glad,” Shichiro said. “Your eyes were always lovely. I wish I could…” he bit his tongue, sharply, determined not to dwell on that again.

  But Hanako understood, and gently, tenderly, she pressed her lips to the spots where his eyes once were, just as Momoe Chiyo herself had done months and months ago.

  Then she pulled away and said, “We came to get you. I swore I would, once the twins were born, and now we need you. We are going to war, to stop Katsumi-dono and Tsuneo-dono, and the Empress will need her trusted protector.”

  “Well,” said Shichiro, still marveling at the feel of his son wriggling in his arms, “If my empress demands it of me, who am I to deny her?”

  And she smiled at him, and he lifted his head, and at last smiled back at her.

  *****

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN-- THE EMPRESS AND THE SHOGUNS

  Tatsuya was overjoyed to have Shichiro returned. He provided fresh clothes and food, and a blue cloth to bind about his eyes, to replace the now beyond-filthy bandages, and then left the two of them alone for several days while things were prepared.

  At one point over that time, Shichiro asked if Hanako could use the power in her blood to heal his eyes, but Hanako took one look and saw it was beyond her power. The wound was too old, and even if it were fresh, it would have most likely been beyond her power.

  “I thought as much,” he said sadly, with only the faintest of bitterness in his tone. “Momoe Chiyo-sama said it was beyond her own powers, still… I thought it was worth asking.”