Chapter 10

 

  

Seasons were passing swifter than before. The goddess of spring enfolded him with visions of forested hills, cherry trees blooming; and maples, aspen, and ginkgo trees, sprouting fresh leaves. Blue wind swirled, bringing everything to abundant life. Weeks past, nevertheless, and soon the blossoms fell like snowflakes. It pained him to bid farewell; for he longed to refuge in spring’s embrace, even as it irrevocably departed, its white sakura petals fluttering away on the roaming breeze, … the incomparable beauty yielding to summer ...

Here came a season endlessly green, where one trusted in time’s assurances. Summer monsoon rains filled the streams, channels, rice fields, and the grass grew tall, the woodlands flush. Cicadas hummed and birds wove songs through the sky. In this carefree period he could have remained, yet the path he followed commanded him onwards, across fields, and into deeply forested mountains, … into a wilderness where he knew not what awaited ...

The trek through this hinterland devoid of souls lasted longer than any other stage of the journey. Over time the path became increasingly indistinct. He felt so far from home, from civilization, or any vestige of the world of people. A growing desperation pressed his steps. He prayed to find a way to return, far back, whence his family, friends, his very identity, were sustained in a halcyon state. Although he hastened, the journey through the wilderness took so long that the leaves started to transform, turning golden, and brilliant crimson.

Autumn …

He had to hurry before winter, before it was too late. The leaves fell however, blurring the path. Utterly lost, he searched for some familiar sign.

Please, I want to return to spring, to behold the cherry blossoms, … a final time

I am too young, and not prepared for the leaves to be falling already …

Stumbling through the mountain forests, he gained view of a hidden valley, a place no one else, no mortal, had ever seen. The escarpments were ablaze in fall colors. A timeless spirit resided therein. It was perhaps the most beautiful sight he ever beheld… And yet, he wanted to collapse to his knees and weep.

The leaves had waited, to gift this final stunning splendor, before they would be gone forever …

 

Shinyasu awoke to a room drenched in shadows. The lone window revealed a slender horizontal rectangle of starry sky. Half asleep, the wash of cool air kept him from sinking back into deeper slumber.

She whispered.

A scent of jasmine stirred his senses. Slowly, he shifted over in his bed. Beside him knelt a gentle silhouette; long black, silken hair draped to his pillow.

Putting a hand on his shoulder, she whispered his name anew.

“You’re here,” he mumbled. Still woozy with sleep, he moved to rise, but before he could, Isae leaned over him in a sheltering manner. Flooded with relief, he embraced her. Surely while dreaming he had been searching for her, across years, or longer. Finding her now, he could scarcely believe it. It was as if she had been at his side all along.

 “How did you come?” Shinyasu sat up. “Did you sneak past the guards?” Despite the unattainability of it, he wondered if she had not made it here to help him escape.

“The guards let me in.” Isae leaned nearer, speaking feather-soft, “Or maybe I snuck in, neh?”

Shinyasu feared she was not supposed to be there, and worried what repercussions might fall her way if the samurai lords discovered it.

In the faint starlight she must have noticed the concern in his eyes, for she assured, “Do not worry. I convinced Tadoro to let me through the main and inner gates. The guards acquiesced as well. Though no one will ever admit it, General Daihara must have assented first, neh?”

“Isae-san …”

A finger to his lips, she hushed him gently. “Nothing bad will come of it. And even if it did, I don’t care at all. I needed to see you again.”

Shinyasu surrendered. In the end he could only be grateful she had found a way back to him. They held each other tight, as though they had crossed rivers, wildernesses, entire oceans to meet again.

Amid shadows of gray, Shinyasu studied the shape of her smooth white face, delineated by the cascade of jet hair. The twilight translucence of her eyes consoled him, while evoking a powerful instinct to care for her.

“I see you kept my hakama cloak,” said Isae, passing her hand over the violet cloth, which Shinyasu had folded and set next to his pillow.

“I was sad I might never see you again,” Shinyasu confessed.

“There’s no reason to worry about that,” she shook her head. “Not after tonight. Never again.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we will see each, as many times as we want. Everything is going to be alright. You are going to be alright.” Her smile conveyed sympathy and relief. “General Daihara has promised to help you.”

Such was his surprise and incredulity that he could say nothing. Why would any Minotara warlord ever intercede on his behalf? Although Shinyasu wanted to share in Isae’s confidence, he barely managed a timid nod.  

“At the very least Daihara will extend your time as a prisoner at Fujiyama,” she tried to ease his doubt. “If it came to that, it would prove favorable as well. During the interim we could take necessary steps to absolve you entirely of this sentence.”

Seeing she was positively convinced and excited, Shinyasu held back from gainsaying the likelihood of such prospects. Instead he gave a faint smile.

“We’ll also arrange for you to play the flute for Lord Hojotara. Yes, everything is going to work out far better than imagined.” Isae looked just a thread away from clapping in elation. The spark then dwindled.

“One thing though, …” She paused, biting her lip. “To make this work, and avoid the sentence, … it’s possible you will be required to renounce your family name, … and become a Minotara vassal.”

Despite Shinyasu’s misgivings, his hopes had begun to take wing. Scarely off the ground they now struck an insurmountable wall. He sank into silence.

“Forsake my kindred?” Shaking his head, he mumbled, “How could I ever do such a thing… to turn my back on them …”

Isae held his hand; Her defenseless gaze made it clear she was investing her hopes in him. Wordlessly, she pleaded. Confused, Shinyasu turned away, at the dim ceiling.

After a lapse spent pondering, he exhaled. “I would never consider it,” he said, facing Isae, “… if not for you.”

She clasped both hands over his. “You mean?”

“If I have to give up everything, I will.” He declared and nodded with enough conviction to dissipate the worries from Isae’s countenance.

Putting regrets aside, seeing her relieved and inspirited made the decision worth it. Further than this, Shinyasu could not be certain Daihara wielded sufficient power to accomplish what Isae claimed he could. After the things Shinyasu witnessed in the war between the Sangenji and the Minotara, he dared not let his faith rise too aloft.

 The bright belief in Isae’s innocent face however, allured him to at least consider the possibility of a future. This in turn, granted leave to envision living again, which sparked in him a genuine happiness. This hope he appreciated like nothing ever before.

“I am in indebted.” Shinyasu bowed to her. “How can I ever thank you, Isae-san?”

Holding his hand yet, she unfolded to her feet.

“Come outside and look at the stars with me.”

Hesitant, he stood. “But the guards, they will not allow me -”

“Oh, just come on.” 

With a tug Isae lured him. Sliding the door back, they stepped into the night. The spring air greeted them, with a crisp trace of winter’s memory. Around and below, Fujiyama Castle extended in shadow-cloaked tiers. No guards anywhere to be seen. A quiet and expansive stillness reigned, journeyed by an intermittent breeze which rippled their kimonos. Brief rains earlier in the day had cleansed the sky; and in the absence of the moon, the stars shone like a suspended shower of jewels. Beyond the castle, a range of forested hills huddled in sleep. Shinyasu sensed the wilderness was mysteriously aware of them, indeed, of everything.

Awed at this freedom, he soaked up the surroundings. Wearing solely his indigo-blue kimono, it was a blessing to feel the flow of the cool air. Isae stood by the parapets. Outside he could more clearly appreciate her raiment: a dark blue overcoat of thin fabric embroidered with cascading cherry blossoms; under this a white kimono depicting blue rivers; at her waist, a sash of navy blue. The parapets overlooked a drop far into the ink shadows of a ravine. Across, slopes surged steeply, crowned by the black outlines of pines jutting atop the ridge.

“The guards have agreed to leave us for tonight,” said Isae. “We can roam anywhere we wish in the castle’s northern quarter, … as if it were our own.”

It sounded overly hospitable of his captors, but Shinyasu saw the logic in the concession. The guards knew he could never escape the outer walls, lest he grew wings and flew away. Nonetheless it was surprising that someone - Daihara likely - had yielded him and Isae such liberties.

At her side, they drank in the view of the forests and sparkling horizon. A bird called out tentatively. From afar, another answered in song. Further among the hills the murmur of water reverberated.

“There are so many stars,” remarked Shinyasu, staring skywards.

Isae brushed her hand along his. Their fingers intertwined. Such tranquility, in the very air. Shinyasu contemplated the young musician from Yoshino. When they first met by the garden pond, he never would have imagined they might be together now. Their gazes joined, and Shinyasu forgot every path he had tread, and all which was lost. Perhaps sensing her power over him, Isae looked away, smiling shyly.

After a short interval, perhaps remembering something, Isae said, “Follow me.”

She walked several paces down the rampart before turning and regarding Shinyasu with an enticing smile; she gestured for him to come along. “There is something I wish to show you.”

Shinyasu took less than a dozen steps when a feeling unlike anything he experienced before struck him.

An inexplicable certainty flooded him. He had been here before, … with her. The sense was so uncanny and powerful, he scarcely advanced.

How was this possible?

As if originating from a place transcending the seen, an intangible impression overwhelmed him. Without words, the message came;

 

This was always going to happen.

He and Isae were always going to meet.

 

Mystified, Shinyasu, stopped in his tracks.

What does this mean? 

Although the answers to such questions were hidden, an undeniable intuition told him a great purpose existed in their having met. She was someone very important in his life, as he was in hers.

Who is she?

This truth was veiled yet, beyond the tapestry of the night sky.