Summer Teardrops

One's era does not define one's thought, not alone one's freedom.

The copper sun hangs low in the sky and the summer night breeze begins to blow its chilly breath on my skin. I tighten the wrap of my silk kimono around my arms and watch closely as light turns into dark from the porch of my room.

 

This evening would be particularly different, I muse to myself with a deep sigh. For eighteen years, I have obediently followed my parents and all the elders of our clan in everything that I do. My hair, the way I dress, my manners, my education, and even my pastimes have to go through their approval. Now as the right hand maiden, the daughter of the future leader of the bloodline, my husband has to be chosen for me, and they picked Takatsuki.

 

If he is not someone I especially know of, I would not have cared --- but he is my cousin and my best friend. No matter how hard I protested my cries would surely fall on deaf ears. It is the year 860, and it is all about how one can continue tradition perfectly.

 

My heart begins to wring painfully as I think about sleeping with him. I just cannot do it. Maybe what I really want is to become a priestess or a healer anyone without the need for a groom. But truly the time left to me is not even enough for me to decide on anything now, much more my dreams.

 

I was never given time to begin with when I dwell into the idea. All I have is a second to utter a yes or a no to the elders, no explanations required. I remember when I was ten and I wanted to join a poetry writing competition, Father beat me until I fell asleep in pain.

 

I inserted the statement ‘I am better than any other boy than Takatsuki in the contest’ into our conversation because I was all set with my writing brush and paper and he would not let me in the hall. After that instance, I never gave up but my instincts told me that if I continued pestering the tradition with my ‘lies’ about freedom and volition, I would not be able to make it in my fifteenth year. So, I stopped and here I am ending up just like every other girl in the Fujiwara family.

 

The stars are filling up the lonely black velvet sky as the moon peered from the horizon all in its glorious golden disk and eerie shine. The shadows start to dance as the god of the night climbs higher in the firmament. It is about time. Slowly, I release my grip around my shoulders and let the beautiful smooth fabric flow down my petite body. 

 

The sakura blossoms embroidered on the silk cloth seem to be real and alive. It is my mother’s handiwork which she began when I was just twelve years old. I love her as she has done a lot of great things to me beginning from the time of my conception. But she never understands my deepest longings and I did not even bother to worry her about my opposition to this engagement when it was revealed to me yesterday. She is just about like everyone else. Maybe I am being too unkind now or even reckless with my words towards my clan but I guess it is not that bad. At least in my thoughts, I am unimpeded and powerful.

 

Warm drops fall on my hands as I give one last look at the landscape before me. Everything I see now will change in a matter of time, and it might come to the point that all would be unrecognizable. But change is not evil because it is the true rhythm of nature, the trees grow tall, the flowers bloom and turn into fruit, and the mountain weathers into rocks.

 

Unfortunately, it is the year 860, and only I believe things that way. I sigh deeply as I touch the elegantly carved gold door handles. Once I enter and join the banquet there is no turning back, no more summer night musings like this again. However, I have decided that what I hold now deeply in my heart as real I would treasure forever. Dreams run in the blood anyway…I know that someday my line would think the same way as I do today, and the time might come that they would be free as the summer breeze blowing carelessly through the sakura trees. 

Author's Note

I first published this in writers-network.com (03/26/14 ~ Shadowlily)