Journey Through Fire (6 page)

I
n Hana's room, Mother and Moriyasu were preparing to retire into beds they had set up on the floor beside Hana.

“Did you see all the lights come on in the monastery?” Mother asked me. “What was going on?”

I looked at my innocent little brother and wanted to hold him tight. But I just shook my head. “I don't know. A lot of the monks had been meditating. Perhaps they were retiring to their rooms.”

Mother nodded and lay down in bed. Moriyasu ran over to join our mother and she held the cover open for him as he scrambled to warm his limbs against hers.

“You should get some sleep, Kimi,” Mother said as she rested her head against the pillow. Her eyes were already closing.

“I will,” I whispered. But I had never felt more awake. I went around the room, pinching the flames out from the candles.

As Moriyasu snored softly, I stepped over him and Mother, curled up on the floor. I sat on the edge of Hana's bed and took her hand. Moonlight drew a silver line down Hana's profile. I leaned forward to peer at her face and saw a trickle of moisture on the faded bloom of her cheek. A tear? I reached out a hand and wiped it away.

“Hana,” I whispered. “Have you been crying? Are you awake?” But there was nothing. I sat down at the foot of her bed and watched. For long moments, I did not move and my eyes remained fixed on my sister's face.
Is she remembering the fire?
I wondered.
The pain I have caused her?

“Please come back to us,” I whispered. Then I settled back and waited. My eyes burned with tiredness and my body was aching from the fight against the ninja. But I would not fall asleep. Not while there was hope that my sister might open her eyes.

 

Behind me, a weak light from the open screen illuminated the room. Dawn was breaking. I had kept my watch, and nothing had happened. But I would not give up. A bird sang a solitary daybreak chorus, and as the gentle warbling filled the room, I saw Hana's eyelids twitch.

“Hana!” I called softly. I took one of Hana's hands in mine. I gazed at her face and—yes, again! I could
see her eyes moving beneath her eyelids. This had to be a good sign. But what could I do to help? Hana couldn't hear me.

“Perhaps if I meditate,” I whispered to myself. I might be able to send my thoughts to her—give her strength.

I held Hana's hand in my lap and closed my eyes. I allowed my body to relax and cleared my mind, breathing deeply. With each exhale, I allowed myself to sink deeper and deeper. Sounds faded away and the darkness behind my eyelids enveloped me. Even the weight of Hana's hand fell away. I was drifting…An image filled my mind.

Hana. Her face broke into a smile as she reached out a hand to me. I felt myself run to my sister. But as I approached, her face grew serious and she snatched her hand away. As I reached out to her, I fell and plummeted down into the dark. When the darkness cleared, a battle raged around me. My sister was fighting samurai, and alongside her, Tatsuya and Daisuke fought against the attack of these armored warriors. I watched helplessly as a soldier ran toward Hana, his sword held high above his head. He brought the sword around in a vicious strike, and I cried out as I saw a single red stain blossom across my sister's tunic. Slashed across the belly! Her sword clattered to the ground as she held her hands over the wound, blood dripping out from between her fingers. I tried to call out but I choked on my sister's name.
I watched her fall to the ground. She looked up and her eyes pierced my soul. She held out a hand to me for a second time as she tried to control the shudders of pain wracking her body. I went to my sister. But as I reached out, her eyes filled with hatred, accusing me of I knew not what.

Then my sister was gone.

Anguish forced my eyes open. The meditation hadn't worked. I looked down into my lap, but something was different. Her fingers were intertwined with mine. Was my sister returning to me?

“Please come back, Hana,” I said. “There is so much for you here.”

A single red maple leaf drifted in through the open screen. It floated above Hana, dancing in the currents of cool air. It dipped, and its golden edges brushed against her face; then it came to settle on the bed, just above her heart. The red of the maple leaf against the white of her linen bedcover was beautiful. I wished my sister could see it.

I looked up just in time to see Hana's eyelashes flutter and then I saw two glistening crescents appear as she slowly opened her eyes.

“You're awake,” I breathed, suddenly aware of the wet tears that stained my face. Hana smiled weakly and looked down at the maple leaf.

“I haven't seen one of these in so long,” she said simply.

I burst into tears. I could not hold them in any longer.

“You're back,” I sobbed. “You're well again!” Hana reached out to me and this time her hand was solid in my grasp. I wiped the tears away from my face and called out to my mother and brother.

“Hana's awake! Hana's awake!” As my sister weakly sat up in the bed, Moriyasu woke first.

“Hana!” he cried, his young face beaming with delight. He scrambled to his feet and ran to her. Hana laughed.

“I'm weak,” she warned him, as he roughly scrambled onto the bed. “But I could take a drink of water.” Moriyasu immediately dashed out of the room and ran down the walkway, calling ahead of him for a pitcher of water. Hana and I smiled as we listened to his joyful cries.

Mother had sat up and was watching the two of us.

“My daughter,” she said quietly. For the first time in days, her brow was unlined and I could see silent joy brimming in her eyes. She climbed to her feet and came to the bed. Then she leaned over and kissed Hana's forehead.

“Now I have both my girls back,” she said. She brought her hands together in front of her chest in a prayer of thanks and bowed her head. When she
looked back up at us, tears tracked two paths down her cheeks.

“Welcome back,” she said, her voice faltering. “I must find Daisuke immediately,” she said. “Don't move.”

Hana smiled weakly as Mother left the room. “I'm not going anywhere.”

My sister and I were alone again.

Hana looked at me, her eyes searching my face. Her laughter and smiles had disappeared and she reached a tentative hand up to the scarf that covered my head. Instinctively I pulled away.

“What happened?” she asked, face creasing in a frown. I could not bring myself to meet my sister's gaze. I said nothing. How could I tell her about what had happened to me, when her own injuries were so much worse?

“Tell me what happened,” Hana insisted. “I need you to be honest with me, Kimi. Everyone else will try to shield me from the truth.” I knew she was right. Now was no time to protect my sister.
I should have done that back in the inn,
I thought.

I reached a hand up and pulled the silk away from my head. Hana let out a gasp as she saw for the first time the scars and burns that covered my scalp.

“I remember…,” she whispered. “There was a fire, wasn't there? Oh, Kimi…”

“It's not so bad,” I reassured her. “Sometimes I even forget the burns are there.”

“Really?” Hana asked, gazing into my eyes.

I shook my head. “Never,” I admitted. “But I care less and less each day.”

Hana looked down at her arm.

“Remove the bandages,” my sister ordered. I rarely heard such sternness in her voice.

“But—” I began.

“Quickly,” she interrupted. “Before Mother gets back and stops you.” I knew my sister was right; there was no point delaying. Whatever Hana dreaded would only grow worse in her imagination the longer she had to wait. She needed to see the truth.

Hana watched intently as I unraveled the bandages, careful not to hurt her. I pulled away the last of the soaked linen and heard my sister gasp with pain as the bandages lifted away from her raw skin. Down the length of her arm was a long burn. Healthy skin puckered at the edges of the wound, and the burns were either angry red or yellow from blisters. I could see the signs of healing—the layers of new, fragile skin—but sensed that this would be small consolation to my sister. This was the first time she'd seen what the fire had done to her. I only hoped that the shock wouldn't send her away from me again.

“I'm so sorry, Hana,” I said. I looked back up at my
sister, but she did not meet my gaze. She turned her head to inspect the injuries more closely.

“It's something, isn't it?” she said.

I swallowed hard. “The burns are bad, but a wonderful monk named Daisuke has been looking after you.” I turned my head away in shame. “I just wish I had never inflicted this on either of us.”

Now Hana did look up at me. “This isn't your doing—”

“But if I'd stayed hidden under the floorboards—” I interrupted.

“The soldiers would have found us anyway.” Hana cut me off. “We never could have escaped that attack unscathed. This isn't your evil, Kimi. We both know who is responsible—Uncle.”

Relief flooded my heart. I had been so worried that my sister would hate me.

I walked over to stoke the charcoal fire that was burning in a corner of the room. I bit my lip as I tried to decide whether or not to tell Hana about my vision.

“What is it, Kimi? Tell me,” she called over from her bed. I turned around and saw how beautiful my sister looked, despite her burns. Surrounded by the white linen bedcovers, the pale skin of her face looked almost luminous. I had to tell her.

“I've seen things,” I began, looking at the floor.
“I've dreamed of battles. We were all fighting…Tatsuya was there…I'm so worried about Tatsuya. It's been so long since we have heard anything of him. Daisuke says that it's unusual for the ninja to kidnap people. Normally they kill immediately. So why did they take him, Hana?”

Hana's face turned pinched. She gazed past me and I could see that I had brought back painful memories. “I don't know,” she said. “I wasn't completely separated from the world, when I was asleep. I had dreams, too. With every dream I felt Tatsuya's hand guiding me as we practiced with our swords. And with every dream…” She stopped.

“I'm sorry,” I said. “I didn't mean to upset you.”

“I just want to know if he's all right,” she said quietly. A fresh tear streaked her face, and now I understood why I had seen that tear on my sleeping sister's cheek.

She had been dreaming about Tatsuya.

A voice came from the doorway. “Welcome back, Hana,” Daisuke said with a smile.

My sister turned her face up to him and beamed. It was so good to see her smile again. I watched as Daisuke persuaded her to get back under the bed covers.

“Your body still needs time to heal,” he said. “Kimi, please bring me fresh bandages.” He didn't
say a word about the exposed burns or the pile of dirty bandages that sat on the floor beside Hana's bed—evidence of our hasty rebellion while Mother had been out of the room.

I passed Daisuke fresh rolls of linen.

“Now, leave,” he told me, as he began to bind Hana's arm.

“But…” I didn't want to abandon Hana—not now that she was awake again.

“You haven't slept all night. Don't think I don't know. Please, go to your room and rest. You'll be no use to us otherwise.” Daisuke's tone of voice was kind, but I knew he was serious. I looked over the top of Daisuke's head at my sister. She smiled her agreement with the monk.

Reluctantly I turned to leave. I paused in the doorway and looked back into the room. Hana was laughing gently at some joke Daisuke had made. The monk kneeled at the side of her bed and was tucking in the last of her bandages. Neither of them needed me right now.

I turned and went to my room. It was my turn to rest.

S
unlight poured over me and teased me awake. I opened my eyes slowly, enjoying the sensation of the floorboards beneath my limbs. Ever since training with Master Goku, living as a servant, I had craved the feel of a hard floor beneath my sleeping body.

The throaty song of a bird made me turn my head to gaze out of the open window and I saw that Moriyasu's bed was empty. So was Mother's. How long had I slept? I got up, stretching my arms high into the air, and went to the window. The courtyard below was busy with people and the sun was high in the sky.

I strode down the walkway toward Hana's room, but as I pushed open the door I saw that it was empty, too.
Where is everyone?
I thought.

I ran back to my room and quickly climbed into a simple pastel-green kimono that had been laid out for me.

“Hana? Moriyasu?” I called hopefully. Perhaps
they were nearby. But there was no response. I quickly turned to race out of the room when I suddenly remembered—my head scarf. There was the piece of silk, crumpled at the end of my bed. I picked up the midnight-blue square and wrapped it around my head. I did not try to find a surface in which to see my reflection, but as my hands passed over my scalp, tucking in corners of the scarf, I could feel that the brittle, cracked skin was turning smooth and soft to the touch once more. It was a relief to think that the burns might one day disappear for good.

I stepped into the courtyard. Some monks were walking back into the grounds through the main gates. They carried large woven baskets over their shoulders with leafy greens dangling over the edges. They had been out gathering in the forest—we would all eat well tonight.

I allowed them to pass and then ran toward the infirmary, where I had met Akira and his wife. Since my last visit there, I knew that Moriyasu was fond of this place. Perhaps my family would be there? I pushed through the doors. Groups of peasants sat around, talking quietly. Master Satoshi moved among them and he nodded once to me in greeting. Along the walls of the infirmary were rows of skeletal bodies, sleeping or…I shuddered and pressed the thought from my mind. My eyes ranged around the room.

“Welcome, Kimi!” called Akira, from a corner. He had a damp cloth in his hands and was gently washing his wife's frail limbs. I raised a hand in salute and walked over. I kneeled by the side of the couple and bowed my head respectfully. But my eyes were soon scanning the room again.

“Have you seen any of my family?” I asked.

Akira nodded toward a low paper screen. “Your sister is very beautiful,” he said. “Like you.”

“Thank you,” I said. I took a second cloth from the bowl and helped him wash his wife with the warm water, rubbing the soapy cloth across her frail back. When we were finished, I climbed to my feet.

As I approached the paper screen I could see the silhouette of my sister's elegant posture. Her burned arm was in a sling, tied neatly in a knot at her neck. Someone had helped her out of bed.

“Hello, Hana,” I said quietly.

My sister turned to gaze up at me and I could see the happiness brimming in her eyes.

“You've found us,” she said. “We didn't want to disturb you. You were in such a deep sleep.” She turned back to the woman she was tending. The woman looked ancient, though I guessed that illness had added to her years. Her face was sallow and scabs littered her lips. Brown spots covered the back of her hands and her skin looked paper-thin. She was starving to death.

Hana brought a spoonful of broth to the woman's lips and nodded. Obediently the woman sipped and gave my sister a hesitant smile. Hana dipped her spoon into the broth a second time. Despite her own recent illness, my sister was using her only free hand to feed another.

I turned away so that Hana could not see my emotion. Sometimes it was too much to see how good Hana could be. Could I ever be as worthy? I counted under my breath, waiting for my feelings to subside. When I turned back, Hana was still bent to her work. She had not noticed that the sling had slipped. I could see that the new, raw skin of her healing burns looked stretched and puckered. Her young flesh was ravaged still. Hana glanced up at me, offering a smile. But the smile faded when she saw the expression on my face. Quickly she adjusted the sling.

“There are always scars at first,” she said. “Remember how we used to scrape our knees as children? Now we can barely see the marks.” Her smile returned, and so did mine. Her talk of our childhood years reminded me of the games we had played with the
nazuna
. Daisuke knew much about healing herbs. Perhaps he could help Hana—could he give us something to help her scars heal over?

“You're right,” I said. “I'm sure your scars will heal well.”

I scanned the room to see Daisuke, framed by the
light from an open doorway. The copper in his skin shone against his saffron robes. I walked quickly over to him. Turning toward the door, he indicated with a nod of his head that I should follow.

As we stepped outside into the area where the washtubs were, he waited for me to speak.

“What can I do for my sister?” I asked. “It's my fault she's injured. I want to do something to put it right.” Behind him, the maple trees swayed in the morning breeze.

“I can help you,” he said. He reached out a hand to indicate the low hills beyond the monastery. “The
himawari
plant is rare, but it is sometimes to be found growing out there. It has seeds whose oil can heal.”

“Can we go and find it? Now?” I asked.

Daisuke shook his head. “It's not that simple. As I said, it's rare. And I will need permission from my master to leave the monastery. For now, come and help me with something else.”

Daisuke led the way out into the larger courtyard, and we sat beneath a cherry tree. It was cool beneath the tree's shade. Daisuke picked up a wooden bowl filled with dried yellow flower buds.

“These can be brewed and the tea can calm even the most turbulent of souls,” he explained. “But first we must sift through the dried flowers to make sure that there are no blades of grass or pieces of grit.” He
placed the bowl between us and we picked through the dusty flower petals, turning over the soft leaves in our hands and brushing off any dirt. I brought my hand to my face and breathed in deeply the pungent smell of the crushed chamomile.

“What is the
himawari
plant?” I asked. I had never heard of it before.

Daisuke turned his face up to the sun and closed his eyes, smiling to himself. “The
himawari
is like sunshine brought down to earth,” he said.

I frowned. “Daisuke, I'm sorry,” I began. “But I don't understand what you're talking about.”

Daisuke laughed. “You will,” he said, getting to his feet and taking the wooden bowl. “In time. Now I must see to my patients. But when Master Satoshi says the time is right, I shall take you to find the flower. It will help your sister.”

“Thank you,” I said. “This means so much to me.” I watched my friend step back into the cool of the infirmary.
I am lucky,
I thought, as the door swung shut behind him.
I have made a good friend
.

 

Daisuke and I stood at the gates of the monastery. Dawn mist swirled at our ankles and I hugged my silk robes tighter around my body, trying not to shiver. I was grateful for my head scarf, wrapped tightly against the slight chill in the air. The morning sky
was streaked with washes of pale blue and the sun had not yet peeked over the horizon.

Moments before, Daisuke had come to my room and gently woken me. We were both careful not to disturb my brother and mother as we tiptoed across the floor on bare feet. Once outside the room, Daisuke had passed me a pair of monk's straw sandals.

“They'll be much better for walking through the mountains,” he'd explained. I smiled as understanding dawned. We were going in search of the
himawari
.

Now we were setting off. Two warrior monks opened a small door in the huge gates of the monastery for us. Their white cowls shone in the weak dawn light and they lifted their wide-bladed
naginata
staffs to let us pass. Curiosity shone in their eyes, but neither of them questioned us. Daisuke must make these trips often on behalf of Master Satoshi.

“The answer to your wishes is out there, Kimi. Are you ready?” Daisuke asked as we gazed at the vivid, lush greens of the mountain. I nodded and we stepped forward into the forest that edged the monastery. Twigs and leaves snapped beneath our feet and I scanned the trees nervously, looking for any sign of another ninja attack or for my uncle's men. We both had brought our swords with us; we would not face enemies unarmed for a second time. But
slowly I began to relax. The trees soared high into the sky above our heads, and birds swooped through the air as they flitted from their nests in search of food. There were no enemies here.

As we walked, Daisuke pointed out things to me. He strode over to a tree wrapped in vines and tore up some of the vine roots, snapping them open to reveal snow-white flesh.

“This is the
kuzu
root,” he explained. “It reduces fever. Look out for it if you're ever injured on your travels.” He placed the root into a small hemp bag he carried slung over a shoulder. At the base of another tree he spotted a cluster of triangular green stems, and with a piece of bark he dug up clusters of fat garlic. He pointed to his heart.

“This is good for a long life. It helps your heart, Kimi.” He brushed the earth from the bulbs of garlic and added them to his bag of precious supplies.

We walked on, Daisuke taking the lead as the sun climbed higher in the sky. I could hear a low rumble up ahead. “What's that noise?” I asked Daisuke. Since their attempt at capturing my brother, I instantly took any strange sound to herald the ninja.

“You'll see,” Daisuke replied. We emerged into a grassy clearing and my breath caught in my throat. Ahead was a pool of emerald water, surrounded by velvety moss. And behind that—a waterfall crashing
down from the rocks above. I had heard of such things, of course. In poems and stories our nurse would tell us. But I had never before seen such a huge waterfall with my own eyes.

I stepped past Daisuke and kneeled at the side of the pool, dipping my hand into the icy cold water. The waterfall threw up a cloud of mist that kissed my cheeks and cooled my blood. The rocks not obscured by the tumbling white water glistened in the morning sun. I looked back around at Daisuke.

“Is this where the
himawari
grows?” I asked. I had to raise my voice to make myself heard above the crash of water.

Daisuke shook his head and pointed. “Over there,” he said. “We need to walk through the waterfall.” The monk had not raised his voice, yet his words still sounded clearly in my ears.

Daisuke took the lead. He clambered up from rock to rock toward the falling water, bending over so that he could use his hands to steady himself. I watched carefully to see how he placed his feet and I copied the way he tested each rock before putting his full weight onto it.

Soon we were close to the sheer rock wall, and the waterfall crashed down almost overhead. Just as I thought we could go no farther without being knocked into the pool below, we stepped into a
crevice of air between the sheet of water and the rock face behind it. We could make our way behind the waterfall to the other side.

We were caught in a secret world of our own, and it felt like no harm could come to us here.

“Don't fall over,” Daisuke called back as we made our way, careful to avoid the clumps of moss clinging to the stones. “I know how clumsy you can be.”

“Me?” I shouted over the noise of the water. “You're the one who needs to—Daisuke!”

My friend slipped, lurching forward with a cry, and I grabbed his wrist, stopping his fall just before his ankle twisted badly beneath him. If his foot had become trapped between rocks here…I dreaded to think how I would have gotten him back to safety.

Daisuke righted himself and looked over his shoulder at me.

“Thank you,” he gasped. “That's what I get for teasing. Let's cross as quickly as we can. But be careful.” He pointed to the other side of the pool and I nodded. We were nearly there.

A moment later, I lost my own footing, stumbling into the waterfall. I cried out, but Daisuke didn't hear me.

“Daisuke! Wait!” I called. But it was useless.

I had fallen into a crevice where the water crashed down around my shoulders. If I wasn't careful, I
could slip over the edge and fall into the pool below. I gasped in lungfuls of air and forced myself to stay calm. As my heartbeat slowed, another sensation filled me. It was a feeling that had been a stranger to my heart for so long.

Peace.

I pulled off my head scarf and raised my face up to the water that pounded down on me, driving into my skin. The worry and anxiety of the past weeks were being washed away. The icy water stung my skin as my clothes clung to me. I allowed my tears to mingle with the water that coursed down my body, swept away in a shower of water that cleansed my very soul.

Eventually I stepped back onto the rock path and made my way across to Daisuke. He was waiting patiently on the other side of the pool, watching. He reached out a hand and I gripped it as I climbed up onto the mossy bank. As warmth returned to my skin, I noticed that I still felt Daisuke's fingers gripping my hand. I looked up at him. Not a word passed between us, but Daisuke's eyes seemed to be asking me a question. I allowed my hand to rest in his for a moment more. Then, I gently pulled away and started to wring out my head scarf. Daisuke's face reddened and he looked down at the ground, before darting another glance at my face. Our eyes met and neither of us looked away.

“Happiness is found in the most unexpected places,” Daisuke said, finally breaking the silence. “Even in places where monks fall over badly and make fools of themselves.” I lifted my face to the sky and laughed.