Ai of the Mountain (A Fairy Retelling #2)

by Dorian Tsukioka

  All too soon, I have made my way to the top of the mountain and find myself standing outside the walls of the castle. My heart beat begins to race, and it has nothing to do with the arduous climb I just endured. My feet do not want to move any further. I am frozen to this spot. I know he’s in there. Waiting for me.

  I can’t do this.

  A man walks through the gate of the castle walls and scans the tree line. He face is familiar, friendly. Kurasawa-san. He is searching for me. He finds me standing just behind a giant elm, and a smile spreads across his face. I wish I was here to spend my lunch with him.

  My feet finally break free from their rigid state, and I find the courage to move closer to the castle. As long as I’m moving towards Kurasawa-san, I find that my feet are willing.

  “Tanaka-san,” he says, “I’m happy to see you.”

  I feel the blush spread across my cheeks. I know I should be careful with my feelings. After all, I hardly know this man. “Thank you, Kurasawa-san.” I pause a moment before I add, “I’m happy to see you, too.” My words create an immediate reaction, his smile broadens and his eyes sparkle.

  It only lasts a few moments. Once he sees the two obento boxes in my hands, his face darkens considerably. “I should take you to Lord Nakaguchi,” he says, and I nod. There is a note of sadness in his voice. I smile at him again, but it is tight, not real. I do what must be done.

  I expect to follow Kurasawa-san up through the castle again, but this time, he leads me to the rear of the castle where work is still being done on the perimeter wall. There is a garden being built here as well. It is immense, taking up all of the land between the inner keep and the outer wall. A row of rocks creates a path through flowering bushes and a small grove of cherry trees that promise to bloom with beautiful pink and white blossoms next spring. There is a small pond here with an arched bridge crossing over it. The reflection in the water creates the illusion of a perfect circle. I’ve never seen such a beautiful place.

  “What do you think, Ai-chan?” a voice says behind me. I turn around. The daimyo is there, and beside him, my father. Lord Nakaguchi is spreading his arms wide as if he is embracing the entire garden.

  “It’s very impressive,” I say. The daimyo smiles. I’ve said just the right thing.

  “For your father?” he asks, indicating the obento boxes in my hands. I hold out the one meant for my father, and he takes it, then passes it on. My father holds it in both hands, utters a hasty “thank you,” and then shuffles off to another part of the castle grounds. He barely looked at me the whole time.

  “Come, Ai-chan,” Lord Nakaguchi says, taking the other obento in his hands and indicating that I should walk on the path next to him. He leads to the top of the bridge, and sits down, his legs hanging over the side. “I know this is a bit unconventional, but I thought it would be a good place to share a meal.”

  I do not care if it is unconventional to have a meal on the top of a bridge. In fact, I’m somewhat relieved. I would have been more worried if he had led us back inside the castle into a private room with no other eyes to witness his actions. This makes me feel a little better, less worried that he might do or say something that makes me uncomfortable.

  I sit down on the bridge, seiza-style on my knees, careful to keep the obento between us. I am not as afraid as I had feared I would be, but I still want to maintain my distance.

  The daimyo loosens the knot on top of the furoshiki, and unwraps the lunch inside. I chose a box with two layers, stacked on top of each other, so that I could keep our lunches apart. I do not want a second occurrence of the daimyo finding a reason to feed me. He smiles and hands me a portion of the box, along with a set of chopsticks. He has kept the larger portion for himself. I am not upset. I have no desire to linger here.

  “I want to apologize, Ai-chan, for my behavior yesterday,” he says. “It was inappropriate.” I look at him, determined not to look away. I want him to know that I agree with him; his behavior was completely inappropriate. I do not say what would be customary: “It’s no matter. Please don’t worry about it.” Instead, “thank you,” is all I can muster, before I take a bite of my lunch.

  I eat in relative silence while the daimyo chatters away about his plans for the castle. I try to be polite, though I am deeply uninterested. I manage to mutter a few instances of “Oh, really? Is that so?” which seem to keep Lord Nakaguchi happy enough to prattle on. Although our meal is finished, he continues his one-sided conversation. I try to find a moment when I can gracefully exit and make my way home, but it seems like I am stuck listening to the daimyo’s monologue until Kurasawa-san arrives with a message.

  “Excuse me, my lord,” Kurasawa-san says. “Forgive me for interrupting, but there is a representative here from the emperor, just arrived from Edo. He wishes to have a word with you immediately.”

  Although Kurasawa-san’s message is for the daimyo, his gaze continually shifts to me. I am not the only one who notices this. From the corner of my eye, I see Lord Nakaguchi look briefly back and forth from me to the samurai. I keep my eyes steadily on the ground, hoping to give away nothing. After a few moments the daimyo gets to his feet and excuses himself. Immediately, the pressure of being with the daimyo rolls off my shoulders and I feel a lightness in my body. Kurasawa-san extends his hand to me and I take it while I stand. My feet have fallen asleep, tucked under me while Lord Nakaguchi droned on and on. They burn for a moment while blood rushes back through them.

  “My master seems to favor you,” Kurasawa-san notes. “Excuse me,” he backtracks a bit. “I should not be so forward. It is really none of my business.”

  “It’s okay,” I answer. “You’re right. He does seem to favor me, whether I like it or not.”

  Kurasawa-san smiles at me. I like that his smile is so easy and relaxed. It’s so much more real than Lord Nakaguchi’s. And then I can’t help but compare it to another smile I love to see, on the face of my dearest friend, Kaito. I feel guilty for a moment, admiring this man’s smile when just yesterday I was espousing in my dream how real Kaito is to me, that he is all I need or want.

  I understand what Kaito meant. Kurasawa-san is real flesh and blood. He is here. Kaito, as much as I love him, will never be real. Yet, I cannot deny that I love him, even though he is just a bit of my imagination. Conflicting emotions war back and forth in my heart, all within the span of a few seconds. I decide that I am here now, in the real world, so I will be concerned with what is truly real. I can deal with my dream world, and Kaito, later.

  Kurasawa-san helps me to organize the obento pieces together and bind them once again in the furoshiki, all the while chatting casually to me. While I was stuck in the daimyo’s presence, I couldn’t wait to escape. Now that I am here talking with Kurasawa-san, I am not quite so eager to leave for home. His manner is easy and relaxed. It rubs off on me and I feel myself smiling more easily, laughing unguardedly. I could happily become used to spending time with him.

  We circle around the base of the castle, towards the main gate. Lord Nakaguchi is there with a small group of men attending him. A man whom I guess to be the representative sent from Edo, is sitting atop a rickshaw pulled by two strong, sweaty men. I can’t imagine how tired they must feel after pulling the cart up the mountain. Although I do not take the road that leads to the castle when I travel between here and my home, I know that it still new and therefore very bumpy. The representative looks nearly as uncomfortable and tired as the men who pull the rickshaw.

  The daimyo is reading over a long letter. I wonder if it was written by the hand of the emperor himself. I have never seen the emperor, of course, nor do I know anyone who has. I sometimes wonder if the rest of Japan truly exists, or if it is only a dream world, this place I have never seen, and am likely never to see in my lifetime. The thought of traveling so far and for so many days boggles my mind.

  Lord Nakaguchi finishes reading, carefully rolls the paper into a cylinder, and places it in a round, tasseled container. The container is be
autiful, decked in rich fabric of golden threads. That container is no doubt meant only to hold the words of the emperor this one time. It alone is probably worth more than everything in my family’s home all together. Wealth is another thing I cannot imagine.

  “Tell the emperor that I understand his words completely and am happy to comply. I will begin sending funds immediately.”

  “Thank you, Lord Nakaguchi,” the representative says. “I am sorry to cut my stay so short, but I have many other prefectures to visit as well and other daimyo lords to meet with. Please forgive me for leaving so soon.”

  “Certainly,” the daimyo says. He notices me and stops speaking for a moment. His gaze travels back and forth between me and Kurasawa-san, and then a smile spreads across his face. I know that smile. It is the same hungry smile that he gave me when we first met. This is the true Lord Nakaguchi, the man who desires power above all else.

  “Before you depart,” Lord Nakaguchi says to the representative, “allow me to send one of my men to accompany you on your travel through the country and back to Edo. It is very dangerous for someone as esteemed as yourself to be traveling with so few guards to protect you.” He holds his arm out to Kurasawa-san. “I will send my very own head guard, a samurai warrior, to protect over you. He is in your service now for as long as you have need of him.”

  He doesn’t look at the representative as he says these words. He doesn’t even look at Kurasawa-san. Instead, his eyes remain steadfastly fixed on me.

  Chapter 3

  I weep the entire way down the mountain. I am very sorry to see Kurasawa-san leave, that is true, but even more than that, I weep for myself. As long as the daimyo rules over our village, I will never be free. He wants me to know that; I am sure of it. The way his gaze lingered on me, watching for my reaction to his words as he sent Kurasawa-san away confirmed my realization. He wants me to know, without a doubt, the immense power he has over my life.

  I do understand it. That is why I must leave.

  I don’t know where I will go, or what I will do, but I cannot stay here and endanger my family. The capricious whims of the daimyo will eventually lead to disaster for my parents, and for me. I know it as surely as I know my way along the hidden mountain paths that I’ve traveled for the past eighteen years of my life. It’s good that I know them so well, because I can barely see through my tears as I run through the forest, back down the mountainside to my home.

  I don’t stop at the river to speak with Grandfather Koi. I know his words would offer comfort, but right now I need to be alone. I’m too afraid that he will try to talk me out of leaving, and I have made up my mind. I know it will be unbearably hard on my parents to endure my leaving. I will need to find someone to help take care of my mother, perhaps a friend in the village. When I find work somewhere, I can send money home to help my parents. I try not to think about how difficult it will be as a young, single girl to secure a job that will provide enough money to take care of my needs as well as my parents’. Perhaps I can find work in Nagasaki. The city is big and diverse, with all the foreign merchants. Maybe I can discover some sort of job there.

  My head is so filled with ideas for how I will escape the daimyo and blend into the crowd of the city, that I do not notice the door to my family’s home is standing ajar. I push through it and find my mother’s crumpled body lying on the floor.

  “Okaasan!” I yell, throwing down the obento boxes and rushing to her side. I am scared to touch her, scared to hurt her, but dare to lay one trembling hand on her back. It moves. She is still breathing. The air I’ve been holding in rushes out of my lips in a quick, relieved sigh. I push back her hair from her face. Her eyes are closed.

  “Okaasan,” I say gently now, “wake up.” At first I think she will never wake again, but then her lids flutter open and her mouth opens to speak. She cannot find her words and instead lets out a weak groan.

  “It’s okay, Mama, I’m here now. I’ll help you.” I lift her gently off the floor, and help her sit up. She clings to me tightly; I think she is afraid of falling again. I wonder if perhaps I should have let her stay there, until I could get a doctor, but it would take hours to run into the village and bring a doctor back with me up the mountain. She would be terrified to be all alone on the floor with no one to help her. It will be hours before Father comes home, too. I am all she has right now.

  I pray that none of her bones are broken as I help her slowly up to her feet. She doesn’t grimace, or act as if anything is injured. I try to talk to her, but all her answers are in grunts and wheezes. No words. I hold her up as much as I can while I help her to shuffle to her futon. When we finally reach it, I carefully help her down to the mattress on the tatami mat floor, and cover her with a blanket. She falls asleep immediately, her hand clutching tightly to my own.

  With my other hand, I stroke back her thin, graying hair, careful not to wake her. In sleep, her face relaxes, and the signs I noticed earlier are no longer visible. The drooping eyelid, the downturn of her mouth, they vanish in sleep. While she rests, all the signs of her stroke disappear.

  Lying next to my mother, I am still clinging to her hand when I also fall asleep. Although my physical body is lying next to her futon on the tatami mat floor, my dream self is walking toward the river where Kaito is always waiting for me. I do not have to say a word. He knows me so well that he reads my face before I have even opened my mouth.

  “Something is wrong,” he says. “Tell me.”

  I do. I begin with the lunch with the daimyo, and tell him everything that has taken place that day. His face saddens when I mention Kurasawa-san, and I wonder if he guessed that I had met a man who seemed interested in me. I have to remind myself that of course he knows, he is part of my own imagination. He is part of me.

  I tell him about finding my mother on the floor of our home, and how worried I was at first that she was dead, but how worried I am now that I know she has had another stroke. Kaito has been with me through the years of my mother’s strokes, encouraging me through the small ones that seemed to take no time for her to heal, to the larger stroke that left her unable to communicate for months. She fought so hard to regain her speech. Kaito understands how heartbroken I am to see her lose it again.

  “I don’t think it’s a very big stroke,” I say, trying to reassure myself as much as him. “She was able to sit up and walk with assistance. Hopefully, she’ll regain her speech again soon.”

  I will have to take care of her again, just as I have in the past, taking care of the household chores and duties, assisting my father, and nursing her back to health. For a brief moment, I see myself working as a seamstress or store clerk in Nagasaki, and just as quickly as the image appears, it vanishes. My plan to escape the daimyo by running away vanishes with it. I cannot abandon my parents, leaving them to fend for themselves. I must stay.

  “Ai-chan,” Kaito says, when I’ve stayed silent too long, “is there something else? Something you want to tell me about?”

  “I’m ashamed to tell you,” I confess. I do not want to admit to being a coward. I don’t want to tell him of my plan to run away from the daimyo. But, I know he can already see it in my face. After so many years together, I can hide nothing from him.

  “You can tell me anything, my mountain girl,” he says as he delivers gentle kisses to my face, removing the tears newly formed on my lashes.

  I know he is telling me the truth. Kaito has always been kind, quick to listen, and never judgmental of me. My idea for running away to the city comes out in a quick confession. Although Kaito says nothing to condemn me, I can read the concern clearly etched across his face.

  “I have a confession to make to you, too, Ai-chan,” he says when I am finished. “I know that you are frightened of what the daimyo may do, and I want to do everything I can to help keep you safe from him. But, I am selfishly glad you did not leave.”

  “Why, Kaito?” I ask. “We’re always together in my dreams. What difference would it make to you if I stay
ed here, or traveled to Nagasaki, or any other city for that matter?”

  “Because, my sweet girl, I cannot leave here.” He lifts his chin to indicate the river and forest surrounding us. “I am bound here, forever.”

  The sound of my father coming home wakes me, and I am groggy, not used to falling asleep in the middle of the day. Okaasan is still holding tightly to my hand while she still rests. I slip out of her grasp and quietly exit the room, careful not to wake her. I meet Father in the kitchen and prepare a quick meal for him. He has arrived home very late; it’s already dusk.

  We sit down at the table together, neither of us having said much to each other since his arrival. I tell him about Mother, and her apparent stroke. His face is burdened with concern for her. Neither of us know how many more strokes my mother can take, how much longer she will be able to survive. “There is something else,” he says slowly, as if the words are too heavy to carry across the table. “The daimyo received a letter from the emperor today.”

  I nod. I remember Lord Nakaguchi reading over the long, scrolled letter. I remember how he carefully rolled it back into the golden canister that is worth more money than all of our family possessions put together. “Yes, Father,” I say, “I saw him read it, just before he sent Kurasawa-san away to accompany the emperor’s representative on his journey.”

  My father looks at me with sad, kind eyes. Perhaps he has guessed that Kurasawa-san was more than just kind to me. Maybe even Father wondered if there might be more in store for our future, if the daimyo had not interfered. “The emperor’s letter demanded that Lord Nakaguchi pay the tribute of taxes that is due, the taxes that the daimyo has already collected from all the people of the region.”

  I remember the taxes. The amount we owed this year was far greater than any our family had ever paid in the past. Father had to find extra work in the village for several long, hard weeks to make up the difference in what we owed. Mother and I gathered everything together in the house that we could sell for a little bit of money. There wasn’t much, but we were able to scrape together enough to pay the daimyo’s fees. All in exchange for the protection of the daimyo and the emperor, of course. Protection from what, I do not know, perhaps protection from their wrath.