Footsteps on the landing outside startled Suzume from her sleep. She sat up and held her robe close to her chest. Moonlight poured in through the screens and it sent slatted shadows across the woven mat floors. A human shape disrupted the pattern before disappearing, as if it were a trick of the eye. Suzume sat up a bit straighter. The night was silent except for the sound of cicadas, which did not make sense since they should be out this time of the year.
“Who’s there?” She called out. “You have no reason to be stalking around my bedroom at this hour!”
Her heart was in her throat and she hoped her sharp tongue would be enough to dispel the intruder. The shadow reappeared. The shadow was not deterred by her coarse words. The screen slid open. A male, silhouetted by moonlight, blocked the entryway. The pale light cast by the moon caught his ebony hair which was tied in a top knot. He stood with his hands on his hips.
“There you are, I thought you had wandered off,” the man scolded her.
His flipping greeting upon intruding upon her bed chamber left her momentarily without words. Who was he to come into her room late at night like some kind of secret lover? “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
Suzume stood up and her hair fell loose around her shoulders and cascaded over her chest. It was unseemly for a man to see her like this without a screen to protect her regal features. What if this man wanted to take advantage of her? She should scream. But if she screamed, the servants would find the man and might think the worst of her. What if Daiki found out and thought she had been unfaithful. Would he call off the wedding?
“Did you hit your head when you got out of the hot spring?” he peered at her with a raised brow and moved in close examining her face.
She stumbled back and away from him. “I have no idea what you are talking about or who you are. Now get out before I call for the guards.” She inhaled deeply to show she was preparing to scream.
He chuckled. “What are you talking about? What guards?” he came closer to her and could better see his features. He was very young and handsome. He had dark almond shaped eyes and thin lips that some woman might call kissable. He also seemed familiar but she could not quite place him. Perhaps he was the son of a minor lord?
“Do I know you?” She asked as she racked her brain for the affiliation. She must have been tired because her brain felt foggy and slow to process.
“Of course you know me; you’re my pet-priestess.” He came over to her, a hands breath away. His breath fanned over her face and it felt like a cool breeze. How unusual. She thought.
She began to shiver. Why do I feel so cold? She glanced down and her fine silk robe had been replaced by a tattered priestess garb. She was kneeling on the ground, her arms were bound against a wall with something tight and sticky. The man stood above her. She blinked up at him her head swimming with confusion.
“Who are you? What is going on here, what happened to the compound?”
The man frowned and then knelt down in front of her. His eyes were dancing with delight and a smirk was placed on his lips. He sighed with dramatic flair. “I can’t leave you alone for a moment can you or you get tangled up in all kinds of messes.” He laughed to himself and took a step back.
Her vision was blurry but it appeared she was in a cave of some-sort and there was a white residue on the walls that was hard to make out in the darkness. Something shuffled behind her and the man glanced back that way.
“I’m going to let you hang out for a bit longer while I take a look around,” he strode past her.
“Wait, you can’t just leave me here?” She wrenched her arms and tried to break free but found them bound tight.
He smiled again. “Oh can’t I?”
She glared at him and was forming a well worded verbal tirade when the room swam out of focus just as a long and hairy leg came into view. Suzume screamed as it brushed against her. She pulled at the restraints and tried to get up from the kneeling position. She felt like she was being wrapped up in something suffocating and sticky. She screamed and twisted and then lashed out when a hand touched her shoulder.
“Mistress, what is the matter?”
Suzume stopped kicking and screaming to look up at the maid who was regarding her with a furrowed brow. Suzume peered around the bedchamber. It was just as it had been the night before. She was not in a cave. There was no monster and no infuriating man. Sunlight was filtering through the paper-screens and she could hear the sound of the koi jumping in the pond outside. A servant was humming as they worked somewhere nearby.
Despite her brain telling her this was reality, it all felt wrong. Gooseflesh rose on Suzume’s skin and she could not shake the feeling of wrongness about Daiki’s home.
Everything was as it should be. Everything had its place. Everything was as she would expect it. But she still felt cold despite the bright sunshine and the warm robe she had slept in. I’m just catching a cold is all.
The maid helped her out of bed. Breakfast was waiting for her; broiled fish, rice and a fermented soybean soup. She ate with her mind distracted by her nightmares. Once she finished eating, the maid came and helped her to dress. As the maid was tying Suzume’s sash, a second servant came in. In her hands she held a maple branch with a note tied to it.
“For you, mistress,” the servant bowed low as he handed her the note.
How sweet of Daiki to send me a message. I hope he comes home soon so we can be married. Suzume took the branch and untied the note and read the poem within.
The maple leaf falls
A lingering touch of spring
It leaves me wanting
Her heart jumped into her throat and she found it difficult to breathe. She turned to the servant. “Who gave this to you?”
The servant cowered beneath her sudden change of demeanor and bowed low. “Mistress, it was the lieutenant that gave it to me, to give to you.”
How did he know? How dare he play such a terrible trick on me... She would find the lieutenant and give him the tongue lashing of his life. She didn’t know how he knew about this poem but to taunt her with it was not funny in the least. She rushed out of the room to find him at once. She stumbled on her long robes and caught herself on the wall. She was being careless but he body did not want to cooperate she was so frustrated. She went from the inner courtyard to the outer which faced the practice yard where the guards were sparring.
The men were shirtless as they wrestled. They glistened with sweat beneath the early morning sun. On another occasion she might have stopped to steal a glance but her mind was focused on finding the lieutenant. I will have him stripped of his rank and thrown into the darkest dankest cell for this.
Then she found the lieutenant standing with his back to her. Arms crossed in front of him and still wearing the helmet and mask that he had been wearing when they arrived.
She ran over to him, despite the stares, and grabbed his shoulder. He turned to face her and she held up the maple branch.
“Where did you find this poem, is this your idea of a joke?” She demanded between panting breaths.
His eyes were unreadable behind the mask. They flickered over her and she realized her hair was still unbound and tangled from sleep.
“I wrote it,” he replied without inflection.
She exhaled. It cannot be. It cannot be. Doubt warred with her anger. And a feeling she had abandoned long ago began to resurface. “That’s not possible. I received this poem before as a gift from...” the anger had left her tone but she was not ready to hope, she was still wary of the lieutenant.
“Whom?” He pressed. His dark eyes were intent upon her behind the mask.
“From someone I loved and... who died,” she admitted though she was not sure what had prompted her to say so. She had never spoken of it to anyone before.
“What was his name?” he asked.
She shook her head and found childish tears running down her face. This wasn’t her—she wasn’t the type to cry, over anything. Why was she letting her tears fall now in front of this cold heartless man? One who was playing with her emotions by sending her such a cruel reminder of her past? She had given up on girlish love the day her first love died. “Akito... he died in battle. He gave me this poem right before he left... I thought I would marry him.” She shouldn’t have told him, she had not even remembered any of this until she received the poem. Then everything came flooding back slamming her with long forgotten emotions that were nearly foreign.
Akito had been her one and only real love. He was young and handsome and a son of a noble family. He was her first choice for a suitor. However, he had been cut down young and the hopes of their future had ended with it. She had sworn never to love again and chose Daiki, a well-placed man who would take care of her but one she would never really love. She had refused to let anyone it. And now, this man was playing with her emotions so close to her wedding day.
“Are you sure he died?” The lieutenant asked.
She glanced up at him. “I am positive. I attended his funeral rights. I wept over his ashes...” Where were these words coming from? First she had made an emotional display and now she was sharing a painful memory with this man...
She lowered her gaze at her admission. What was wrong with her as of late? She was never one for emotional sentiments. She liked her though flippant facade she used to face the world, not this sobbing love sick girl.
The lieutenant touched her face and a shiver ran down her spine. His hands were ice cold. She glanced up at him and his eyes behind the mask were burning coals. They seemed familiar.
“Why do you not take off you mask?” She asked. She felt compelled suddenly to see the face of her would be guardian.
“I am afraid you will not like what you see,” he said.
She shook her head. “Show me.”
He nodded and lowered his head. He pulled off the mask, slowly and revealed pale skin with a pink jagged scar dissecting his face from his left eyebrow down to the right corner of his lip. His hair was messy and tied back and out of the way. Beneath the scar she recognized Akito’s face, a few years older and a bit more care-worn but still him.
She cried and flung herself into his arms. “I thought you died,” she sobbed.
“Shh.” He petted her hair. “I lost my memory after an injury to my head in the battle. I found my way back into the ranks and had only just begun to realize myself when we found you alongside the road. I am sorry I was harsh. I was surprised to see you like that and to hear you speak to general Tsubaki so informally...”
Embarrassment flooded her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she demurred. But I have nothing to be sorry for. Daiki is my intended and Akito was dead for all I knew. She shook off the thought that was for later. And until Daiki hadn’t found me I would have still been at the temple. Akito had mentioned a roadside. I thought came and took me from the temple. Her memories were becoming muddled as if someone had smeared fresh ink on parchment. None of that matters now. Akito is here and we have all the time we need. Before the lovers could get away for a private word, a runner jogged up to them. He had a scroll outstretched in his hand.
He knelt down and handed it to Akito. “A message from General Tsubaki.” The messenger declared.
Akito took it and unrolled it swiftly. He scanned it and then frowned. He looked to Suzume his eyes full of love and devotion. “My dear, I fear our time will be cut short. The general is returning from war and he plans to marry you on his return.”