Beau
Wandering Streets
1869, Japan
I heard he went back to Japan. Sometimes I am too bold for my own good. Perhaps it was dangerous to bring her along, too. What choice did I have? He went away, and I needed to tell him something, but I could not tell him myself.
"I am not a babysitter," Cheol whispered resentfully to me.
"Good, I am not a baby," I nodded to her, looking around the corner. Rows of wooden houses with tiled roofs spanned as far as the eye could see. It seemed from within each excited and laughing voices rang out into the early night, punctuated by singing and twanging instruments.
"I can not believe you left the little flower alone. She does not like to be alone," she continued, speaking low despite the noise, daring me to listen closer.
"If you are concerned for her that much then you should go to her after this," I said, knowing this would stop her talking.
I was correct, and she stopped.
But then she continued, too consumed by her own love. It was this which told me I had made the right decision. "There is a candy vendor. I bet she would want the candy. Should I bring it to her? Oh, but she does not want to see me. Will you bring her the candy I buy?" she asked distantly. It was most unlike her, and this was part of my plan. Two plans in one.
"Yes, I will bring her anything you desire," I assured, still looking around as if someone would jump out at me.
"Okay, then I will buy her a doll. Candy, too. What about something for her feet? What if I buy her these things and it makes her too homesick? What should I do, Victor? Are you listening?"
I wanted to laugh because her love was causing her feminine side to come out, something she hid all the time. But it was not the time for laughing.
"Which teahouse are you looking for anyway?" she asked.
I didn't respond, and I don't think she expected an answer. After a moment, she sighed and walked away to a vendor selling the special candy. I made sure not to wander too far away. I observed her interacting with the vendor, the vendor treating her as male, seeing the Western suit and the reserved manner. She came back holding a small bag full of the sugary stuff. She was quiet after that, perhaps thinking of her little flower.
This gave me all the time I needed to think of why I was here, in the native land of my own former lover. Just as Cheol was, I was following the one I loved, still lovesick but having to keep away.
I heard he had become a professor of some sort. Some high ranking position. He was an ambassador, talking to newly arrived Western professors. Through the grapevine, I had heard he was in Kyoto, meeting these professors with the help of a little Japanese style entertainment. Just like the olden days, when he had met me during business. The sudden recollection of this made me shudder in emotions I could not pinpoint.
The meeting of these professors was the true reason why I had brought Cheol with me. Unlike me, Cheol could transform her looks and appear to be anyone she wanted. Her favorite guise was to appear to be a Western man in his sixties, perfect for this purpose.
When I had propositioned her, she had given me a sideways look. "You want me to be Mr. Crane? How mysterious. You want me to go where?" Her face had whitened when I told her we needed to go to Japan. But she swallowed this, and she merely nodded. We had traveled for weeks, and now here we were.
"Where is he? Where did you hear he is?" she wanted to know as we walked along.
"You will see. Its not far," I told her, observing two pretty maiko walking along and giggling behind their hands about whatever it was they were talking about. Something stirred in me, another flashback flooding my brain with images. I saw a young, beautifully elegant man looking at me with such wonder and precious newly born love dressed in clothing from over two hundred and fifty years ago. This young man, smiling at me shyly, too shy to ask for more tea, so I poured him some more and he blushed, looking away from me. My body flushed with the familiar feelings of wanting to pounce on him like a cat, not caring about anyone in the room or the party going on.
"You're blushing," Cheol stated, her silver eyes unwavering in her gaze.
"Those girls were pretty," I lied.
Cheol made an amused sound with her nose. "Since when do you like girls," she said under her breath, unfolding my lie. "Are you following his scent?" she asked.
I nodded, blushing more. She knew so much without me telling her, her demon way creeping me out even still. Even as a demon myself, it was still unsettling the things others could do.
"He's going to smell you, too, you know," she said. I shuddered again.
"That is why you will carry my scent, to confuse him," I informed her.
"How will I do that?" she asked, skeptical.
It was here I would put part of the plan to action. I took her wrist, which she jerked away just as soon as I had tugged her into an alley. "You do not touch me this way," she growled angerily, "you touch women this way. You will tell me to come with you."
"Sorry," I said, bowing my head a little bit. She looked at me neutrally as I took a small knife out of my obi, and took a small bit off the tip of my hair with it. In one swift movement, I took a small string out of my obi as well, and tied the small bit of hair into a little bundle. I handed her this bundle, and she took it and put it in her interior suit jacket pocket.
"Hopefully he is fooled this easily," she said, perhaps unaware she had been insulting. I took this as punishment for having taken her wrist. But then her nose crinkled just slightly, and she looked sharply to the left and stared. Her movements were like a crow who has found the scent of prey.
My eyes widened in shock.
"This scent," she said softly, confused.
"What is it?" I asked, feeling uncomfortable at her demon intuitions.
"It has not been raining? Why does it smell as the earth after a rain? This smells like-"
I didn't let her finish. I knew full well what she was about to conclude.
"The little flower is not here," I assured her. "You are instead smelling him."
"Him?" she asked, confused fully.
"Yes," I said, taking her wrist, "they are related and have the same smell."
In her shock, she didn't tell me to unhand her and in my musing I again forgot she did not like for me to take her wrist.
Outside I observed through a crack in the screen Cheol walking into an entertaining room with a few Western men of various ages. The crack only afforded me so much of a view, but it was enough. My heart began to soar like a bird when my eyes fell on my love. His hair was shorter, tied at his neck in an older Western style. I began to feel sad when I remembered it was one he liked to wear when with me.
He was staring at Cheol without blinking, in obvious racing thoughts. I assumed this was because of my scent on her. He seemed so absored by her that he was ignoring his guests. They were trying to talk to him, but he wasn't paying attention.
After a short time, the Western men were talking among themselves and Cheol was awkwardly looking away from my love. But he was staring at her still. Then boldly, he began to speak to her. I knew this was so far from his nature, but in his desperation he had broken his natural shyness. My heart fell in two at this.
"Crane-san," came his slightly whispery voice, that seductive and careful voice which I knew so well. My heart felt as if someone were tickling it with a feather.
Cheol looked at him politely, the first time she had looked at his face full on. I saw her eyes widen but then soften with purpose. I knew what she was seeing. She was seeing the little flower's face in his, the cheek bones the same, the same forehead, the same eyes but different soul in them.
"Are you enjoying your time in Kyoto?" he asked, using the Kyoto dialect. I noted he was speaking awkwardly, slightly stumbling over his natural Osaka-ben. This told me he had not been in Kyoto or even Japan for very long. So why had he come back?
I tried not to let my own thoughts distract from the situation at hand.
"It is going very well," Cheol said, acting to her best. She rose up her small parcel of candies, and smiled, "I bought these for my granddaughter. She likes sweet things."
"She will like Japanese candies? They are not as sweet as the United States candies," my love smiled gently.
"I am sure she will, if they survive the trip," Cheol said, awkwardly putting them away again.
At that moment, the door slid open and in came a maiko and a geisha. The geisha sat with the Western men, and the maiko made her way to Cheol and my love.
"It is pleasant to see you again, Sayama-san," the maiko said, bowing to him. "Who is this fine gentleman with you? Please introduce me."
"This is Crane-san, professor of Asian studies from...I am sorry, where did you say you are from again?" he asked, looking confused and turning to Cheol.
My breath caught as he gazed subtly at Cheol with a knowing. Cheol took his gaze like a professional. "Massachusetts," she said, with an intense look of her own.
The intense look worked on the maiko. "Masa...chu..se..." she tried to say. This was followed by a game of Cheol trying to teach her to say it correctly. As Cheol distracted by trying to play this game, my love stared at her instead just as intensely. Suspiciously.
I could hardly breathe. He was so smart. Of couse he was. He knew there was another demon in the room with him. He might even know Cheol was cloaking herself in looking like another. To what extent did he know? I began to sweat though the air had a distinct chill.
After a time, the maiko joined the geisha and they began to play music. The maiko played the shamisen and the geisha began to sing a story song in what seemed like rehearsed English in courtesy of these foreign guests, a mix of west and east. Neither Cheol nor my love were paying the least bit of attention. My love was staring at Cheol, and Cheol was staring at the wall.
Then in a bold move which made Cheol jump just slightly and me jump fully, my love leaned over to Cheol. So close, he looked up at her, his eyes wide and heart clenchingly beautiful, their watery sea blue color surely reminding her of her love across the world. "I would like to talk with you privately, Crane-san," he said, leaving no room for polite protest.
I could hear Cheol breathing carefully, this nervousness showing me she was unsure what to do. Surely she had no choice. Politely, my love excused himself and left the room. Cheol was expected to follow, so after a small period of time she did the same. Having finished their song by now, the maiko asked if she would like her to show where the place to relieve oneself was, but Cheol assured she would be able to find it on her own. The maiko seemed unsure, but slid open the door for her anyway.
I closed my eyes, and my senses heightened. Smelling the air, I could feel their two scents in my brain, drifting off in a certain direction. With eyes still closed, I drifted off into the direction of their scents.
In the darkness of my head, I began to hear their voices far off, but getting closer as I creeped nearer.
"Tell me where he is. I know who you are. I smelled your scent on him when he returned to me those many years ago. Did you take him away again? You smell like his hair. Too much. Where is he? You know where he is, to smell like him this much."
He sounded sad, melancholy. Yet strangely, I did not feel the want to reach out to him and hug him to me. It was such a foreign feeling. Where did it come from?
"Yes, I do know where he is," Cheol answered, not lying. I didn't know how to react. Would she give it away? The whole thing? Had I made a mistake in bringing her here, even coming here myself? I rounded a corner, and knew I could go no further. They were very near.
"Tell me where he is. Does he love me still? Please tell me. Tell me," he whispered, his voice becoming too sad to bear. Too desperate.
The next thing she said caused my heart to ache, caused me to want to run away in my own stupidity and hate of myself. All I could do was listen.
"He loves another. Another demon. You should forget him. He will forget you," she told him harshly, without feeling. "It would be wise to go your own way, not to think of him anymore."
I grabbed my hair and began to pull it, a child's reaction in my unsureness what to do, my overwhelmed state. In regret. But I did not have time to think, as my love suddenly dashed off, in my direction.
In my fear, my wings drew out and I took off into the sky, just avoiding him. He ran far beneath me, but I saw him. He looked so beautiful in his formal robes, his hair now unbound and trailing behind him like silky ink. His eyes were closed like the brushstrokes of an artist, and his tears looked like the tiny red dots of the artist's paint.
He ran far away in his grief, in this thing I had told Cheol to say to him at any opportunity to get him to stop loving me. Cheol walked from the dark alley, and looked up at me floating in the sky. She had a betrayed look on her face, a look of uncertainty. I felt immediately bad for having made her do this, but what choice did I have?
I came down, and stood on the roof above her. She leaned against the wall and looked straight ahead. "That was too cruel," she said softly.
"He needs to stop loving me," was all I could say. But she kept on, lecturing me as if I were one beneath her when in reality she was one beneath me. I knew I deserved it. What punishment was enough for me, one who would do this to the man he loved?
"How dare you torture him this way," she was saying, "how dare you torture the man you love. You still love him. I do not understand why you would do this. I do not understand you."
I just let her say every mean thing in her vocabulary to me, as even a small punishment for the horrible creature I knew myself to be. For how dare I, as she said, do this to such a creature so pure as my love? It was true, I deserved nothing for I was nothing.
Like a true tempest, the wind picked up and rain started to fall. Cheol was protected by the extension of the tile roof, but I was exposed up here. I let the rain fall on me, and Cheol let it fall on me, too. She became silent as the rain poured on me, satisfied. It was what I deserved, as if the very earth were ashamed of me. We stood there, just two silently in the rain, knowing things would never be the same, our mission to break a heart complete.
My regret was absolute.
But seemingly as soon as she stopped her torturing words, her voice fading into the rain, she sighed deeply.
"I do understand it, though," she said, sounding spent. I was silent, waiting for her to speak. I heard her sit down, folding in on herself. "We are not so different, are we? I see now why you brought me here."
I heard the rustling of tiny objects hitting each other, and knew she had brought out the candies from her suit jacket. "I did the same thing to her, did I not? Shame, shame," she sighed. "I can not see her, just as you can not see him, even."
Then very slowly, each candy from the bag was thrown away into the street, her shame enveloping each one, for now she saw what she had done to her little flower, paralleled in the situation at hand.
Here my mission was truly complete: one heart breaking, one heart healing. The universe in misshapen balance.