The Journey North

 

            Madako, the innkeeper, was conferring in grave manner with a guest and took no heed of Ayaka or any of the people coming in or out of the Sea of Heavens Bathhouse Inn. Inside were fewer of the young maiko servant women than usual. A group of those still there were talking in the courtyard by the fountain. They all looked concerned. Not a single patron was relaxing in the big bathtubs normally crowded with customers. A daiymo couple from a northern prefecture that had taken accommodations at the inn were in the process of transporting their luggage down the stairs. The man struggled to carry a big load and nearly fell in an avalanche of baggage.

            “You know what happened?” said Ayaka, out of breath when she got to the room.

            “Yes,” Noribuko answered. Considering the situation, her aunt looked remarkably composed. She busied herself, flitting about the room as she assorted their belongings, opening drawers and checking under the tables and beds. Without turning to Ayaka, she said, “There’s nothing to be done about it. It’s too late for Shenobi. But not for us.”

            “What are we going to do?”

            Noribuko combed through the largest bureau’s drawers, pulling out clothes and miscellaneous items. Some of the things she tossed onto Ayaka's bed; others on her own and on Harumi’s. A few things she set on the table.

            “I’ve already made arrangements.”

            Ayaka waited to hear more. When it didn’t come, she urged, “What arrangements?”

            Noribuko tossed a big leather rucksack onto Ayaka’s bed. “You to go north."

            Ayaka stood motionless as Noribuko folded a pair of Ayaka’s white nagajuban undergarment robes before tucking them inside the rucksack.

            The northern region was vast. "Where north?" Ayaka asked.

            "Ryoshu-kita," Noribuko repled. "To the White Citadel."

            “What about you and Harumi? Aren’t you coming?”

            Ayaka feared what might happen to the little servant girl. Harumi had nowhere to go. After the time they'd spent together, and what they'd survived, the little girl had become like family.

            “Of course,” Noribuko answered. “I wouldn’t leave Harumi. We'll continue to care for her.”

            Harumi smiled from the edge of the bed where she was seated and tapping her feet on the ground.

            “We'll both go north, but not yet,” Noribuko explained. “We leave the day after tomorrow. You however, are to depart at once.”

            Ayaka squinted, mystified. She couldn’t believe this. It made absolutely no sense.

            “I've already hired a retainer who has agreed to protect and guide you. He's an expert swordsman and pathfinder. The most trusted of Lord Kodai-Otosan's servants. Now, gather your things. You leave within the hour."

            “What are you talking about!?” Ayaka folded her arms and shook her head. “I can’t go without you. Under no circumstances should we split up.”

            “I’m sorry.” Noribuko pressed some of Harumi’s garments into a big jute bag. “You must go ahead with the retainer. In a few days, Harumi and I will leave on a caravan. Kodai-Otosan saw to it that we have a place reserved on one of the wagons heading north. We'll meet you near Ao-koraudo’s northern border, in Okina-tansui. Don't worry. It's easy to find. Right where the Sora-jukuryo River comes down from the Blue Mountains. From there we all travel north together.”

            Seeing her aunt was serious, Ayaka became alarmed. “Why don’t I just stay and go with the caravan too?”

            “No!" Noribuko flashed her an intense look. "You're not to remain in this city another day! I should've sent you away long ago."

            Ayaka dug her heels in and shook her head. “I refuse to go without the two of you."

            “Yeah,” Harumi agreed, watching them in earnest. “It's nicer to go together, neh.”

            "Shush, you." Then Noribuko stood up and looked at Ayaka directly. Her words were heavy as stone. “Now listen to me. This is no game. In case you didn't know, the Shogun is attempting to eradicate the Southern daiymo families.” She paused. There wasn’t a hint of anything except truth grim as death. “He's sent the Black Hand. They're scouring the lands, down to every hinterland village. He intendss to execute every noble he finds."

            Ayaka’s gaze fell as she pondered the genocide underway.

            “You're the princess of Gurinhiruzu. What more - you were engaged to our enemy's greatest nemesis. The Shogun would like nothing better than to kill a Southern princess while meting out further vengeance against the prince’s spirit by killing the one he loved.”

            Noribuko’s rigor then ceded to a deep concern; it begged Ayaka to understand. “That's why you must leave immediately. Were he to discover you're still in the city, anywhere near it, his assassins will hunt you down. If Kage-waru captured you, no one can imagine what he’d do if he didn't take your life, except that death would be a hundred times preferable.”

            Ayaka lowered her brow. The reality was as ominous as the eclipsing shadow of the shinigami spirit of death. Over the last year she'd forgotten she might be on the Shogun’s hit list. The possibility was sobering. The Black Hand ninjas were unmatched in the art of murder, and renowned for being relentless. They wanted to kill me at the Moon Festival. The fact they failed will only drive them to try harder if they're given the order.

            Her aunt sought to console her, “I'd go with you, but there are no horses left in the city. The army and the supply wagons took the last. And I can’t go hiking across hill and dell, on account of my bad leg and rheumatism.” Noribuko shook her head. “I’m too old. Harumi can’t go with you either. She’s too young and wouldn’t be able to keep up. We can't be slowing you down out there."

            Ayaka reflected in glum silence, before venturing, “What about you and Harumi? Won’t the Black Hand go after you too?”

            “Anything could happen. Assassins could be watching some of the roads, but the highway we'll use loops northwest, away from the battlefronts. Most importantly, the Shogun is only after daimyo, not commoners or nomin. If they did find us, the worse that'd happen is we’d be robbed. But if they discovered you were with us, they'd take you away, perhaps execute all of us. That's why I paid the retainer. He will lead you away on secret paths that cut across the wilds, away from the roads.”

            Ayaka wasn’t prepared to admit it, yet it seemed there were no alternatives. “How can I go without you?” she supplicated. “What if the wagons don’t come? What if we never see each other again?”

            “If for any reason we can’t take the caravan, we’ll foot it,” Noribuko said. Then she implored Ayaka, “But I can't have you waiting around for us. We're not the ones in danger. Don’t worry about us. We’ll be at Okina tansui in less than three weeks. You have no time to lose though. More than half the people in this city know who you are, and the Shogun has spies everywhere. It's best to assume he knows you're still here. In every place Kage-waru has conquered, it’s said he has registries of the daiymo, and doesn't rest until every name is crossed off.” Noribuko's expression scrunched in angst. “I hope it isn't true, but your name is surely written near the top of his black list.”

            Ayaka swallowed a knot of dread. Once again she’d been naïve. Overestimating Shenobi’s strength, and misjudging the Shogun’s malice. Noribuko had brought it to her attention, but suddenly Ayaka knew without the shadow of a doubt that her name was on the Shogun's death list. As long as she remained in the South, or anywhere close, the Black Hand would come for her, swift as knives flying through the wilderness.

            "I need you to survive," Noribuko begged, her expression tightening against tears, and her voice fighting to speak over a sob. "You're the future of the Soranoyume family. You're all I have left ..., what I've loved most in this world, ..."

            Ayaka went to her aunt and put a hand on her shoulder. "Please, Nori-chan, don't cry. I promise you, I won't ever let them take me."

            It took Noribuko a few moments to regain her composure. "You can’t be seen leaving with us. No one must know where you went. The price the Shogun would pay for your capture will be too high for some people to refuse. It has to be like you simply disappeared. And there's no one who can conceal your journey like the retainer.”

            Ayaka mulled the dire situation over, searching for a way out, finding none.

            “Believe me, it’s safer this way. Please obey me. It’s my responsibility to take care of you.” She looked at Ayaka to make sure she comprehended. “I’m just doing my best to protect you, to protect all of us.” 

            "I know." And you are all that I have, thought Ayaka, the two of you. Perhaps she would have opposed her aunt's plan, if it were not for the fact the assassins were after her, not them. The last thing in this forsaken world she wanted to do was put either her aunt, or little Harumi, in danger.

            “Very well.” Ayaka nodded. “I will go north with the retainer."

            “Thank you, my dove.” Noribuko clasped her hands and held them above her bosom to show her gratitude. “I’ll feel so much better knowing you’ll be faraway from here.” 

            Though Noribuko was visibly relieved, Ayaka perceived that all the same it distressed her aunt greatly to be sending her away in this manner. It’d been a difficult choice, the less perilous of two uncertain paths. Choosing neither however, was equal to death.

            “We have to hurry.” Noribuko went over the things she’d set on the bed and those still in drawers, some splayed on the floor. “I’ve put provisions in your rucksack, but we have to finish getting packed and go over everything. The journey to Okina tansui takes three weeks by foot. You’re only to take what is necessary.”

            Her aunt swiftly sorted the things. On Ayaka’s bed they placed everything she might take, then culled a few articles of clothing, gear, and supplies.

            “Do we really have to go all the way to Ryoshu-kita?” Ayaka asked as Noribuko finished digging through the sideboards and dressers, and spun around the room incase she’d forgotten anything.

            “Ao-koruraodo isn’t far enough. After the Eastern hosts finish with the remaining Southern houses, they could turn against the White Tiger. But Ryoshu-kita lies in the distant north, and is nearly as strong as Shenobi was. The Shogun won't take his campaign so far from his base of strength, not yet at least. You’ll see my dove. Once we’re in the White Citadel of Kitakaze, everything that happened here will seem a bad dream.”

            The slivers of sky through the bamboo blinds grew darker. Mist grey clouds had hidden the sunset. Noribuko closed the blinds and lit a candle in a bonbori lantern atop the table. From an oaken chest she handed Ayaka a pair of dark grey pants and a pair of deerskin boots. Ayaka pulled on the loose travel pants, and tugged the boots up to just beneath her knees, securing the bottom of her pants under the boots. Then she dug out her travel kimono from a lacquered mahogany chest. So as not to restrict movement, the travel kimono wasn't as long as traditional kimonos, nor did the sleeves drape so much. Perhaps it was good luck that it was kawazazakura petal-pink, her favorite color. She removed her white kimono, slipped on a new nagajuban undergarment-robe, and donned the pink kimono, securing it with a white sash. Over the sash she clasped a leather belt with several latches.

            While changing into her new attire, she listened to her aunt, “When you get to Okina tansui, go to the Water Pony Inn. The innkeeper is a good friend of mine. His name is Isochu. We go back years. You can trust him. But until you get to the river town be sure to stay close to the retainer so you won’t get lost. He knows every ravine and hill from here to the Blue Mountains and beyond. And he knows how to fight the enemy too. But there could be unforeseen dangers. If anything unexpected happens, do as he says, even if you have to deviate from our plan and can’t meet us in Okina tansui. If there's any danger in the river town, under no circumstances are you to wait for me there. Understand? I’ll wait for you, but if you don’t arrive, I'll assume you continued north. But if that happens try to leave a note with Isochuru, alright. He'll be sure to give it to me. The retainer is instructed to lead you all the way to Ryoshu-kita if we can't find each other. The most important thing is you reach the White Citadel.”

            Although Ayaka didn’t want to think about the possibility of not finding each other in Okina tansui, she nevertheless nodded in assent.

            “Don’t do anything foolish,” said Noribuko. She gave Ayaka a twilight-blue gappa travel cloak. “And stay out of the cold so you don’t get sick.”

            Ayaka’s rucksack lay on the bed. She noticed it'd already been waxed against rain. Most of her belongings had to stay behind. Only the bare essentials; nothing to weigh her down. Her comb, makeup, jewelry, sandals, and other odds and ends, were discarded as worthless detritus. Among the selected items were two white nagajubans to wear under her kimono, a pair of water-skins, one already filled, a rudimentary compass, a tinderbox, some strips of dried beef, and wrapped in cloth, rations of ryoko-pan, the kind mountain nomin ate - hard cakes made of rice, seed, grain, and fruit. Ayaka made sure to clasp her kaiken dagger to her belt. There was also an old map of the lands between Shenobi and Ryoshu-kita, drawn on goatskin parchment tawny with age. She rolled it up and stowed it in her rucksack.

            "It’s always good to have some money.” Noribuko handed Ayaka a small leather purse full of tsuka coins and varied gems. “It's more than enough to make it across the great sea and back. Buy some horses, and anything you might need.”

            Ayaka held the purse; overcome, she bowed, and thanked her aunt.

            There was something Ayaka had to do. She asked for a sheet of kozogami paper, inkbottle, and brush. On the table by the glow of the bonbori lantern she wrote:

            Dear Akemi. I trust this letter finds you well. I am sorry I could not go with you. Do not worry for me however. I will be alright. Though I can't tell you to where I'm going, I promise that I will find you again, one day, sooner than you think. Until then, be safe.

            Love, your dear friend, and sister, Ayaka.

            After it had been written she entrusted the letter to Noribuko, who promised to see it delivered. Her aunt looked outside the blinds, where twilight had spread its melancholic mantle.

            “Hurry. The retainer should be here any moment.”

            Ayaka hoisted the rucksack over her shoulder and secured the straps. Considering it contained all her remaining possessions in the world, it was lighter than expected. After a few ri she knew she'd feel its burden.

            “One more thing.” From under a table in the corner, Noribuko pulled a dark lacquered case across the floor. Ayaka hadn’t noticed it before. Her aunt opened the case. From inside, holding it horizontally in both hands like a sacred relic, she brought forth a sword sheathed in dark brown polished nurizaya wood. Engraved down the length of the saya was the elegant silver-white design of a budding branch. She stood before Ayaka, holding the blade as if in ceremonious offering.

            “This was your father’s katana, a suchiru-seishin blade. Now it is yours.”

            Ayaka received the sword and held it horizontally, studying its deadly art.

            “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble, but always make sure to remember everything uncle Tayori taught you. If the need arises, do not hesitate to use it.”

            Memories came back to Ayaka, like echoes of water down a cave deepened by time; the lessons her uncle had imparted over the years. The women of Gurinhiruzu, as of every feudal land, were expected to be able to defend the kingdom if worse came to worse. When she’d been a girl, and through her adolescence, at least once a week, she and Tayori walked to the meadows just beyond the rice fields. There he taught her how to hold the blade through every shifting of position and stance, to wield it like an extension of herself. They practiced for hours and hours, mediating upon nuance of mind, body, and spirit; merging unto a realm where thought ceased, where one could instinctively react to every defense and attack, and be prepared for any situation.

            Ayaka gripped the black leather-wrapped and gem studded hilt. She hoped she had learned his lessons well enough. Unsheathing the katana halfway, she held it eyelevel and contemplated the lambent gleam of the candle on its cold, mirror-smooth iron surface. She re-sheathed it with a click of the guard, and slid the blade under her sash, where it was hidden under the folds of her cloak.

            Noribuko looked out the window again. Drizzle fell from the gray skies. “It’s time to go.”

            Ayaka, Noribuko, and Harumi, left the room. They shuffled by the palpitating light of the few lamps in the fusuma paneled corridors.

            Ayaka wanted to bid farewell to innkeeper Madako and the maiko she had become familiar with, but her aunt forbade her. “No. We’re going out the back. It’s better no one sees which way you left. From now on you can't take any risks."

            They turned down a dark passageway and slipped out a door that could only be opened from the inside. Outside was a narrow street between the Bathhouse Inn and the back of another three-story building. Cool drizzle sprinkled Ayaka's face and hands. The scent of rain was not far. Twilight seeped into the shadows. A few lanterns on other streets and in windows glowed, but in the alleyway where the buildings joined together, and created an arched corridor, the darkness was nigh impenetrable.

            “Where is he?” Noribuko looked up and down the gloomed street. “He said he'd be right here”

            They waited in the abandoned alley. Drops collected on the slanted eaves of gabled roofs, pattering onto the wet stone ground.

            From the shadows under the dripping arch a figure emerged. As he approached in the silver-grey of twilight, Ayaka recognized him. He was the young ranger she had met in the gardens, that fateful day of the council of rulers.

            The young man bowed to them. On his back was a large leather backpack, beside it a covered quiver, and an unstrung daiyku bow. He wore a rain-blue haori robe and leather bracers. At his waist were both blades of a samurai; the hato short sword, and the long katana.

            “This is Kenjin Tsurubara,” said Noribuko. “He will be your guide, and protector.”

            Kenjin bowed to Ayaka with great reverence. “Deru Soranoyume.”

            Ayaka bowed in return. Their eyes met briefly. In that moment, she knew he remembered her. But this was a solemn hour, and they did not speak of their first meeting. Compared to that day he looked somber, worn by a year of bitter war and loss. There was however, still an ease and understanding in his gaze, as if he knew what she was going through. Though in truth he was a yet a stranger to her, she felt a certain measure of relief that it was he who had been entrusted to help her north.

            “You should get going,” Noribuko said, her voice small with sorrow.

            Ayaka turned to her aunt and the little servant girl. Knowing it was time to say goodbye didn’t make it any easier to find the words. To allow them space in this moment, Kenjin stood back a ways, near the shadowed arch, and waited under the dripping eaves.

            Ayaka embraced Noribuko, then reached an arm toward Harumi. “Come here my dear.”

            The little girl joined the embrace, and the three hugged each other close.

            “We'll only be apart a few weeks,” Noribuko said, as if their destinies were assured. “Please be careful, my dove.”

            They didn’t let go of each other. Ayaka didn't want to admit it, but she knew nothing was certain, that this might very well be a permanent farewell. She fought back tears. If this was to be the last time, she didn’t want them to remember her crying.

            “You be careful, Nori-chan, and you too Haru-chan. Take good care of each other, neh.”

            As she pressed her head against Ayaka’s shoulder, Noribuko could no longer hold back her tears. “You are my beautiful dove, my heart.”

            Ayaka held onto Noribuko, trying to make sure she’d forever remember the faint scent of the lavender and sandalwood perfume her aunt wore, the texture of her clothes, the contours of her shoulders and back, which she had so often held when she needed support and solace. When at last they let go, Ayaka stepped away, forcing herself to not breakdown. She smiled, a sheen in her eyes, then turned to leave.

            She was walking down the narrow alley to where Kenjin waited, when Harumi called out, “Aya-chan!” The little girl ran and held onto her leg. “Please don’t go!”

            Ayaka knelt before Harumi and looked into her eyes. Tears ran down the little girl's cheeks. “I’m sorry, ...," Ayaka whispered. "I have to …but I’ll see you again.”

            “Promise me." Harumi sniffled. "You have to promise me.”

            “Of course I promise. And when we get to Ryoshu-kita, we will build snow castles, and celestials, and I’ll take you to the plays there, neh. And you can have as much mochi as you want.”

            Ayaka held Harumi close and stroked her head. When the little girl calmed down, Ayaka faced her again. Harumi wiped her watery eyes, then she reached into her kimono and brought out her stuffed doll that resembled a cross between a bear, a monkey, and a chubby kitten with a round head. She handed it to her. “This is for you Aya-chan.”

            “Oh, I can’t take it Koribito,” she said. “He's your favorite toy.”

            Although Harumi slept with the toy every night, she insisted Ayaka take it anyways, “You have to. Koribito will help you, and make sure I see you again.”

            It was plain to see how much it meant to Harumi. Ayaka couldn’t refuse. “Alright, I’ll take him with me.” She put the toy in a latched side pocket of her rucksack. "I'll take good care of Koribito. And when we see each other again, I will give him back to you."     Then Ayaka knelt in front of Harumi again, and kissed the little girl on the brow. “Thank you, my dear.

            She stood up and looked at both Noribuko and Harumi. She to them, “Until I see you in Okina tusai, farewell.”

            Noribuko nodded, too flustered with emotion to respond. Ayaka bowed. She felt a part of her was perishing at this separation. Then Kenjin moved forward and knelt before Harumi and Noribuko. He placed his palms on the wet ground, and lowered his brow.

            "I will guide and protect Princess Soranoyume. You will all see each other again in the north. I swear it, by my life."

            “Thank you,” Noribuko managed, stifling her tears.

            Kenjin stood up. Ayaka looked back a final time. She wanted to forever engrave in her memory this image of the two most important people in her life.

            Kenjin waited a few paces down the alley. “Ready, Deru Soranoyume?”

            She nodded. When he offered to carry her things she said, “Thank you, but I can carry it. I have to at least try.”

            “Very well. This way, Deru Soranoyume. Follow me.”

            Once they started down the street Kenjin moved swiftly, keeping to the shadows. He directed them off the main byways and instead on secluded streets. Though he set a fast pace, he never moved more than a few steps ahead, often looking back to see she was close. There was care in his eyes, and empathy in his voice, but Ayaka could hardly notice these things. Sympathy was a dim light in the wake of the darkness that had brought down her world.

            Kenjin paused at certain street corners and looked about, making sure to pick out the emptiest passages. They were both quiet the rest of the way. The drizzle condensed into light raindrops. Ayaka wondered what had become of Midori, and what would become of Akemi, of Missa Nightingale, the Kasainotora family, and master Enzen, and so many people in Shenobi she’d found affinity with. She could only pray for them, and try to hold their memories close to her through the mists of the future.

            They neared the looming jade portal. Around a corner, in the shadows, Kenjin paused. The gates were wide open.

            “Put the hood on,” he instructed.

            After she had done so, they approached the gateway. As they came nigh the city’s threshold, Ayaka felt a pang of loss. She realized how connected she’d become to this place. This was also her home. Without it, the last pillars of security would be gone. It evoked in her a similar sorrow as the day she lost her father, that strong and invincible man who used to have her sit on his knee so she could tell him with delight what she'd done during the day.

            Twilight soaked into the nebulous night, and the delicate rain continued from the dense, low hanging clouds. Kenjin and Ayaka past through the gates and out onto the open road that led north. A few others were leaving too. No one entered the city. Those they past looked like ghosts in the blue dusk. Once they left the walls behind, Ayaka looked up at the massive battlements. In the end none of its defenses could protect them. It broke her heart to abandon this beloved kingdom, full of so many dreams.

            Kenjin guided Ayaka up the road a ways before taking another, narrower road, that traversed some farming fields and then moved alongside the evergreen woods. Here there were no more people to be seen.

            “This way,” he said, taking another secondary path that wound into the solitude of the forests northward.

            Ayaka turned to behold Shenobi a final time. In the growing darkness all she could descry was the city’s immense stone silhouette and rooftops fading into mist. Soon this magnificent city would be no more. She felt lost, another petal on the mournful, roaming wind.

            Kenjin waited where the track diverged. This path that threaded into the wilds looked much less trodden, perhaps a forgotten way. She wondered where it would all ultimately lead ... All she was certain of was that there was no turning back.

            Ayaka followed Kenjin under the rain, and upon the path into the endless wilderness.

 

Author's Note

Reviews

[C. Rose]

As soon as Noribuko said "retainer" I immediately hoped it was Kenjin and was very happy with how this ended.

"bad dream" is probably my favorite line of this chapter, because it ties to what I perceive as the overall theme.

"birds of prescience" you've brought up twice now, I'm curious if that hints at something larger.

I'm excited that Ayaka has her father's katana and will be traveling through the wilderness with Kenjin - who I had incorrectly assumed would be the love interest of the first book.

Again, I will transfer more specific notes to diigo some other night.

[Kuandio]

Omg,, u finished it! Thank you soooo much! It feels very good for someone to read this much. I mean, if it was really bad, I don't think you would have been able to continue.

I thought u would like to see Kenjin return. In retrospect, do u think maybe it took too long? If I included him more times it might make it too easy for the reader to guess he'll be returning, no?

I have many questions for you I'll ask later. I'll try not to get carried away with it though

Thank you again, and when(gotta be positive) the book gets published (after further revision and heavy editing of course), I'd definitely like to give u a free copy

Ahh, have u been reading with the music on? When I put together a book promo video, I'm thinking of using a compilation of these different pieces, especially the very first one - Missa Johnnouchi's "Marco Polo"

[C. Rose]

First question - It felt a little strange how long Kenjin was gone for. I started thinking I was mistaken about him being important. On the other hand, I took about a month long break in the middle so my perspective of time is probably skewed.
I think it is a benefit that Kenjin slips out of the reader's thoughts. This allows the reader to focus on the current relationship.

[C. Rose]

https://diigo.com/076ul2