Shirayukihime

Chapter 2: Spring Will Come

"In the city fields

Contemplating cherry-trees...

Strangers are like friends"

- Kobayashi Issa

Iwaizumi, Iwate, Empire of Japan

I awoke to the white snow again, a cold sweat dripping down my cheeks. Rising from my futon, I was again left lingering with the peculiar dream I had last night. It was the very same dream that had rocked my sleep for a few times now.

The vivid images stayed with me in my head, the sky a sea of black and red and the river I saw before me dark and murky. For as far as I could see, all the buildings- or the remnants of their skeletons- were devoured by the roaring appetite of an ocean of orange flames. And it was at this point- the dreams were always similar- when I would walk down a path lined with rubble. I remembered seeing the collapsed keep of a castle, its moat alit with the reflections of the inferno.

The sheer noise of the scene overwhelmed me. There was nothing to be heard but grotesque screams and wails. I could barely make out anything anyone was saying. I was confused, lost and alone in an endless blanket of fire. The smell wasn't too appealing either. There was just a strange odour in the air, mixed with the smell of burning wood. It may have been a dream, but the unspeakable odour would stick with me even after long I had gotten out of bed.

Then it was that point, after I had walked across a bridge over the river and onto the side of the town, or city, or whatever it was before this happened, would the beholders of those ghastly voices appear. I never knew if they were humans or unholy creatures. There were many of them, some limping down the street, some crawling out of burning piles of rubble, all headed towards me. Some had tattered pieces of cloth dangling from their bodies, some had mangled limbs, twisted beyond comprehension, some had thick, viscous blood oozing out of their mouths. They were all blackened, charred and filthy. Step, by step they got closer. I retreated slowly, but behind me, the bridge I had just traversed just a few moments before were filled with these creatures. They all dragged themselves towards me.

As they got closer, I could hear them ask for water. Water, of all things, these creatures requested. I would scream in fear, shielding my hands across my face so I could avoid seeing these abominations, but their cries of water would only grow louder and louder.

It would be at that point that I would wake up. It had been like that for more than three times now. The first time I got it, I was shocked and terrified, but now, I didn't really let it affect my daily life. Nevertheless that didn't stop me from questioning what I had just seen. I never told anyone about it, though, not even my uncle. I didn't know what they would say.

I took a warm shower and put on a fresh set of clothes. It was still rather dim outside, and the master and mistress hasn't woken up yet. After all, there were guests last night and the both of them were up entertaining while I just sat in my room.

I couldn't help but think of that strange man I met the previous day. What was his name again? Miyuzawa-san was it? I wondered what business he had here so far north. I wondered how he was doing in that abandoned house I showed him to. What a strange person, not wanting to stay at the inn.

There wasn't anybody in the kitchen, so I snuck over to the rumbling refrigerator and took a look inside. I didn't really know what there was that I could make out of a few vegetables for breakfast that could be easily ported. I did remember seeing a few recipes, but I didn't want to risk making some noise and alerting the other two. It was still very early after all.

I looked in the rice pot and found what I was looking for, rice from the previous day. Usually the mistress would store the leftover rice in the fridge, but she must have forgotten to do so. I scooped the cold rice and tried my best to mould them into balls, but the grains wouldn't stick very easily. I mad three, all of them looking as if they were going to crumble apart at any moment. I hoped he didn't mind them looking like that. I wrapped them with some seaweed and bundled them up in a cloth bag. Sure, he did seem like a rather fit young man, but certainly he must have been tired and hungry.

Bag in one hand, I held a hand lamp in the other. The snow was quite heavy that morning, and I was lucky to have decided to grab my shawl along. I guessed he was still there, in the abandoned house up in the mountains. The fur lining the collar of my kimono brushed against my neck. The howling of the wind filled the air.

It was an arduous trek up the mountain trail off the winding road, and I nearly lost my footing once or twice against the slippery rocks. There were no sounds to be heard save the rustling of the snow-laden branches. I was nearly there when I felt like I stepped on something. It wasn't a rock, nor was it the frozen ground beneath the thick blanket of sleet. No, it was something else.

I pointed the light towards my feet to examine what I had stepped on, and found a strange, furry brown shape. I bent down for a closer look, until I realised that my guess had been correct. It wasn't a rock, nor was it just the ground. It was a dead, frozen squirrel. It was still, in place, unmoving. The head, was crushed, its skull collapsed, but strangely there was no blood to be seen. I've seen a few carcasses here and there, so I knew well enough that such damages to the head would certainly draw blood. But here in front of me, there was not even a single trace of it in the snow.

Feeling slightly sick in my stomach, I remembered my original intention of being up there on the mountain trail and pressed on. It wasn't very long before I reached the clearing where the creek was, and right after that, I found the house.

There was a small glow in the distance, so I headed towards it. Emerging from the rows of conifers, I crossed the field, my feet sinking into the deep snow. White sleet managed to cling onto the hems of my dark kimono.

I found the man I had met yesterday by a glowing fire, sitting with his legs spread in front of him. There was something on his lap. The backpack he had brought with him yesterday leaned against a beam not too far away. A shadow fell on one side of his pale face, lit by the warm fire's light, as he looked down, knife in one hand. The smell of the burning firewood felt like a welcoming embrace back from a long trip out in the cold.

I awkwardly cleared my throat to announce my arrival.

"Good morning," I muttered softly. "I brought you something."

"Ah-" he replied, looking up. "Fujiwara-san was it? Good morning."

"Yes," I answered. "Can I come in?"

The young man chuckled, putting his hand, gloved in rough leather, to his chin. There was crimson blood smudged all over his fingers.

"You don't have to be so formal," he said, his tone amused by the sound of it. "Now what, you're going to leave your shoes by the door?"

I felt my cheeks get warm and I didn't really know what to say. I had not a clue what I should do, so I just stood at the doorway. The man seemed to realise the awkward situation he had opened up.

"J-just come in already," he said standing up, putting whatever he had on his lap away. "Make yourself at home, whatever."

I nodded shyly, and stepped into the building. Or whatever was left of it. He seemed to have picked the half-ruined entrance hall as the place to start his fire. Well, it was quite spacious to begin with.

The young man, still clad in his dark jacket and maroon scarf, pulled out a crate from behind the wall, before wiping it fee of dust. He bent down and tapped on it a few times.

"Why don't you sit over here?" he said, looking at me. "We don't want to get that pretty kimono all dirty."

I quietly obliged and sat. The young man returned to what he had been doing, picking up his knife and the red-and-white lump –whatever it was. This time, he sat cross-legged, perhaps out of respect that I was there.

"It's Miyazawa-san, right?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"Yup," he responded, his eyes fixated on the lump as his knife blade made small undermining cuts, causing some more blood to spill out.

Whatever it was, I felt disgusted and turned away.

"Oh," he mumbled. "Sorry about this. Caught this little guy at the back of the house yesterday. Really sneaky guy, had to waste a few bullets before I shot it."

"Whatever you're doing," I said. "It feels disgusting."

Miyazawa-san chuckled again.

"Oh well," he sighed. "I don't really like killing too, but it's what we have to do to survive."

"But seriously," I continued. "What exactly are you doing?"

Miyazawa-san looked at me, a slightly confused frown on his face.

"Erm. . ." he muttered. "I'm skinning it, for the pelt. And the meat."

"I see."

There was a short moment where neither of us talked and silence filled the air.

"Anyway," Miyazawa-san said, putting the lump of blood and flesh on the ground. "What did you come here for? You said you brought something didn't you?"

"Oh yes," I said, handing him the bag. "It's not much, but that's what I managed to scrape out of the kitchen. You know, I didn't want to make too much noise."

"I see," he replied, taking my gift with both hands. "Sorry for all the trouble."

"It's nothing," I responded. "You seemed pretty tired and hungry."

"You bet I am," he chuckled.

Miyazawa-san unwrapped the knot and peeked inside.

"Onigiri," he said under his breath. "I haven't had these in a long time."

"It's nothing. . . Really."

"Ittadakimas."

I sat there on that crate, palms resting on my lap. I guessed since I had already delivered his breakfast, I had no more business there. Miyazawa-san nibbled on the rice balls politely, probably out of respect for me being there.

"Well, walking for four days really does take its toll on you," the young man said.

"You said you were from Nagasaki, right?" I asked. "You walked all the way this far north?"

"Yeah, I am," he replied. "But I didn't come here from there. Walked here from Aomori."

"What were you doing up in Aomori? What did it look like?"

"It's nothing more than a port on the sea. Pretty much industrialised. Smokestacks everywhere."

"What were you doing there?" I asked again, since he seemingly appeared to have forgotten that the first part of the question existed.

"There was a harbour," he replied, looking at me with a rather disapproving look. "I alighted from a ship from Urajio."

"What were you doing so far away from Nagasaki?" I asked, curious.

This guy. . .He seemed a little shady.

"I don't want to talk about it," he replied, finishing his first rice ball before retying the bundle.

Miyazawa-san got up and replaced the bundle in his bag, before sitting down again and continued skinning whatever creature he had shot.

"It's a rabbit," he said, his tone slightly annoyed. "In case you wanted to ask about that as well."

He certainly didn't seem to answer all my questions, and I did feel I was being a little intrusive. But I couldn't help it. Curiosity got the better of me. It wasn't like every day you see a strange man walk in with a large backpack in a small town like Iwaizumi. If I wanted to know more about what it was like out there, he was one of those windows.

"You must be heading somewhere aren't you?" I asked, my voice soft, afraid that I may have sounded too assertive earlier on.

"Morioka," he responded. "I have someone to meet there."

"I won't ask."

"Good."

We were silent for a while after that. I merely sat there by the fire, staring into the flames as they ate up the brittle firewood in their orange light. He must have gathered all the firewood himself. I guess it was essential, given that out here in the mountains it was cold without any form of heating. Miyuzawa-san surely knew how to survive out on his own. I wondered how he knew all this things: hunting and skinning animals, starting his own fire. But he seemed pretty annoyed by how I tried to pry into his life, so I just kept my mouth shut.

"I'm going to wash this," the young man said suddenly, holding up the skinned rabbit's bloodstained fur. "I'll be at the creek if you need anything."

I just said nothing as he walked out of the opened doorway, rabbit pelt in his hand. He left me there all alone by the fire. I was bored, so I squatted by the fire and warmed my palms. There was a stick nearby, so I took it and used it to prod around the wooden hunks still left burning. The slump of meat and bone –whatever was left of it, lied to my left.

It was in that silence that an idea chanced upon my mind. I didn't really know much about Miyazawa-san, but I was really interested in who he was. The fact that he didn't really want to talk about things made it much more exciting to find out new things about him. He seemed to move around quite a lot, and he seemed to know quite a fair bit about getting around the country. I knew any chances that I had with him were slim, but there was still a chance there, and I had to take it.

Miyazawa-san soon came back from his trip to the creek, with the white pelt of the rabbit in his hand.

"You know," he said to me once he came back. "I'd really want to thank you for all the kindness you've shown me."

"It's nothing," I answered. "I didn't really do much."

"Well, sleeping in an abandoned house is a welcome change from sleeping on the street," he chuckled. "Besides, even though its nearly spring, it's so cold up here."

"How is spring like?" I asked him. "Down in Nagasaki?"

"Well, the blossoms would have long faded by now. They bloom there early," he replied. "But anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I'd be leaving tonight. I wish I could do something for you in return, but I really have to go by this evening. I can't really stay up in the open like this."

Now was my chance.

"Actually," I muttered, turning to face him. "There is something you could do for me, and I'd really appreciate it if you could help me."

"Well, whatever you say," he said, spreading the rabbit pelt out on another crate, facing the heat of the fire.

"You see. . ." I began, my heart beating fast. "I have a really close friend I have in Morioka, and I'd really like it if I could go and meet her."

"You want me to take you to Morioka?" he asked, folding his arms.

I nodded in silence.

"No way," he replied. "I'm sorry but I can't allow you to come with me."

"Why not?" I questioned.

"It's too dangerous," he replied. "Going out there is no place for a girl like you. Why don't you take the bus instead? There's a direct route to Morioka you could just-"

"Then how come you're not taking it?"

Miyazawa-san glared at me for a brief moment. To be honest that glare of his was kind of fierce, and I would be lying if I said I didn't feel a little scared.

"I have. . ." he replied, scratching the back of his head. "My reasons."

"And I have my reasons for not taking the bus as well," I replied.

My heart thumped in my chest awaiting his reply. I felt like I had a pretty good chance in convincing him, but it all fell down to his word.

"Fine," he said, shoving his gloved hands in his pocket. "You can come. But don't complain that walking is tiring."

"I sure won't," I replied. "You can trust me."

"I hope I can."

Miyazawa-san looked at the rabbit, before looking at me again.

"Hey," he replied. "Since you want to come along, could you smuggle some food with you? Charred meat and hard biscuits don't really serve to fill a man's appetite."

"Of course," I answered. "You can count on it."

For the first time, I could leave this town. I would have done so already, but I guess I just needed a little push, and Miyazawa-san was that push that I needed. It wasn't that I hated this town, no. I loved Iwaizumi. It was the very place I was born in, but years and years of being stuck in a little isolated town would make a girl feel bored and restless no? It was finally time I could see the country for myself, and I'd be lying if I wasn't excited.

"Then we'll meet at ten," he said to me. "Your parents should be asleep by then."

"They're not my parents," I corrected him.

"Whatever."

"Where exactly at ten?" I clarified.

"Well," he said. "Do you know where the entrance of the town leads to Route 455? The highway that cuts through the prefecture?"

"Yeah."

"Then we'll meet there tonight," he said, walking over to his bag, his back facing me. "I'll be waiting. Don't be late."

I couldn't help but let a smile curl up across my lips. Of course I wouldn't be late. My chance had finally come, and I was taking it. Miyazawa-san hummed something as he checked his backpack, preparing to leave again. There was something in this young man, although secretive and evasive at times, that made me comfortable with him. I just didn't know what. And I had a feeling that he was comfortable around me too.

The moment I went home the sun was already rising. The master and mistress asked me where I could have been in the darkness of the morning, but I just smiled and told them that I went for a walk. They didn't really seem convinced, but it didn't matter.

All that mattered was what lay ahead of me.

Morioka.

Do forgive me for the slow updates, this is more of a side project. Yeah, and it has been nine months since the last chapter came out. I'm really sorry.