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Butterfly, Unfolding
By Sailor Jes

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Disclaimer: Sailor Moon does not belong to me. But this fanfic does. Please e-mail me to use it.

A big THANK YOU to the many people who have posted my fanfiction on their sites and given me fanfiction honors and awards. You guys keep me inspired when I'm not.

Expect the next chapter out in a month. E-mail me with questions, comments, compliments.

Luv you all,
Jes

- - -

A falling flower, thought I,
Fluttering back to the branch --
Was a butterfly.

-Moritake

- - -

If only she had known it was supposed to feel this way. That this was what the poets wrote about. That she loved Mamoru enough to cry out when the truth finally hit her and him. Like when one falling from a cliff hits the rocks below.

And then things became silent. Except for his breathing. And hers. Blended together like strings and song, so that Usagi didn't know where hers left off and his began.

Music filled her mind as Mamoru buried his face into her shoulder. Usagi felt him trembling. Why? She clutched him to her, hugging him. Wanting to tell him how he had made her feel like no one *ever* had. When Mamoru sobbed softly into her hair, Usagi knew something was wrong.

"Mamoru..." she whispered. "I..."

He gazed up into her face, tears pouring from him eyes. Then, he looked down and tried to make his face hard and solid. Kissing her again, Mamoru looked back at her.

"Usagi. It wasn't supposed to be like this."

Smiling, Usagi began to shake her head. "It's alright, Mamo-"

"I came to say goodbye."

 

Chapter Four

 

It was over. Everything. Usagi lay on her futon, twirling a coin in her fingers. Goosebumps dotted her skin. The snows tumbled from the skies. She heard voices in the hall.

"...the most snow in a long..."

The corners of her eyes were grainy from crying. As if she had dunked her face in the ocean and let the salt dry on her skin. She thought of him. How could she not? The room was cursed by him, her body was cursed by him. Before she could cry again, Usagi sat up and willed herself to change her thoughts. She reached for her robe, still crumpled on the floor. She dressed. Depositing the coin back into the sack, Usagi tied the strings together and stuck the pouch into her obi. She needed breakfast.

Sauntering out of her room, she passed an older courtesan.

"Good afternoon, Usagi."

"Afternoon?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Good afternoon to you too."

So Usagi had spent half the day in a state of unconsciousness. Creaking into the kitchen, Usagi wondered if there would be any food left for breakfast. Her stomach growled when she discovered there wasn't.

"You slept late, Usagi," Akiko said.

Jumping, Usagi whizzed around. "Oh, you scared me."

The woman's face remained hard and unsmiling. "We gave your food to the dog. You'll have to wait until supper."

"Oh."

"You seem like you had an exasperating night," Akiko remarked.

Usagi nodded. "I did."

"I couldn't help but overhear you after all."

Swallowing, Usagi felt herself filling with self-pity and anger. She said nothing.

"I didn't know you had a customer last night, Usagi."

"He...he wasn't expected."

"He wasn't expected," Akiko repeated coldly. "Lucky that you got such a nice surprise. How fortunate for you that a client so desperately needed the company of one of my girls in the middle of the coldest nights of the year. How wonderful that he, and from the sound of it, you had such a delightful time. Was he a customer, Usagi?"

"Yes."

"Really? Then where's my payment? Show me my payment, Usagi!" Akiko shouted, stepping only a foot away from her.

With tears in her eyes, Usagi looked up slowly at Akiko. Her hands shook. Anger gushed from her heart like blood, spilling into every vein, every organ of her body. Wasn't it enough that he had left? And now, in her grief, she had to be persecuted by Akiko. Usagi felt a tear slide down her face.

"Your payment," Usagi whispered. Her trembling hand reached into her sash and picked out the pouch. She opened it deliberately, took out four or five coins, and placed them into Akiko's open palm.

"For last night," she continued. She reached in and grabbed a few more coins.

"And the last." Grabbed more. "And the one before that." And more. "And the one before that!" And more. "For every night that I was with him!" More. "For the kimonos!" More. "For the room!"

Usagi threw a handful of coins on the floor. They clattered on the wood. "For almost everything you've ever given me! The debt is repaid! And once I get the rest of it, I'll be out of here! I promise you, Akiko, that by next winter my room will be vacant!"

The old woman's mouth hung open, coins dropping from her hand. Usagi discarded the empty coin purse and brushed past her, leaving Akiko alone with over three-quarters of Usagi's debt spinning and clinking on the kitchen floor.


He marched. He had been marching for nearly six days. Like the other captains, Mamoru could have been riding a horse or a wagon, safe from the snow. But sickly, he enjoyed the way the cold twisted each of his muscle fibers. He didn't mind the prickling, deadened sensation in his calves. At least that kept his mind off of...other things.

"Soldiers!" called a general from up ahead. "We'll camp here for the night. Rest well. Tomorrow we begin our ascent into the mountains."

Grumbling, the men trudged to the wagons to get their nightly supplies. Mamoru paced to the side of the road and leaned against a thick tree trunk. To his left, the mountains jutted into the overcast sky. Clouds consumed the peaks. Mamoru sighed and threw his head back against the trunk. He closed his eyes. As he did, a thought, the same that had been eating at him for the past week, popped into his mind.

He saw himself, violent and savage, helpless to his frustration, seize her. He heard her cries. Did he stop? Did he care? And he saw her confused, surprised eyes when he slipped away and left her. Usagi might forever believe that it was an act of dominance or revenge. That it was like the severance of ties. But if Mamoru could have stayed there, that night, every night after that, he would have. And now, gazing towards the mountains, possibly his gravesite, Mamoru realized that Usagi might never understand. He shuddered.

Mamoru had always thought that his life would be a simple one. Like three generations of his family, he would become a samurai, marry, have sons who would in turn become samurai. Only now, he knew that the equilibrium is his life was awry. Usagi and he were like two unbalanced sides of the scales. Elevating and plummeting past each other, never quite on the same level. Everything was drastic, nothing simple. What sin had he committed in a past life?

He felt like he needed to set things straight with her. Usagi should know that that night hadn't been about hurting her. It had been about things Mamoru didn't have the vocabulary for, feelings so strong that they could only be expressed in physical poetry. Mamoru became even more exasperated. How could she know? He very well couldn't trek back to Edo and tell her.

One of the generals paced by him, dictating a message to a scrawny boy.

"...at the base of the mountains. We can be in Kansai in two weeks, weather permitting..."

And that's when Mamoru got the idea. Quickly, he yanked open his pouch and produced a small vial of ink, for emergencies. Well, this was an emergency. Snapping a bare twig from the branch above him, Mamoru found his pen. He needed paper. The wrapping to his nightly rations provided him that. Leaning against the rough bark, he scribbled:

"Dear, Usagi..."


"...if I stay alive, I'll come for you. But please know that I would never want to hurt you. I love you. Chiba Mamoru."

She folded the letter in half. And then again. Narrowing her eyes, rage filled her. How dare this man take advantage of her like that. Hadn't he already stolen enough from her? Slipping the paper in her obi, she paced down the hall. This was the end. Of everything. Akiko assured herself that Usagi would never, ever read his letter. Usagi belonged to her, not him. She would keep what was rightfully hers.


Usagi thought that eventually the ache would go away. Day by day, the terror of aloneness would quietly diminish. And one morning she might wake up and not immediately wonder where Mamoru was.

The sun woke her up. She sat up in her futon, rubbed her eyes, and gazed out of the window, thinking. She could almost believe that she were back in the luxury of her home. Where servants spoiled her, worries were as sparse as blades of grass in a snow field, and she hated Mamoru. Usagi squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself not to cry. Even if she were angry, or scared, or lonely, what could tears do for her? Forcing herself up, Usagi commanded the day to commence

Strength was her weakness. Her detachment acted as a crutch. She became so lonely it made her sick. Sometimes she would force back her tears so hard that she ended up vomiting. Sometimes she became so livid at her life that she felt dizzy and hot and needed to lie down.

Mornings became a trial. Every day, she would arise, see another barren day, and become ill. Akiko insisted Usagi see a doctor. Perhaps she had a cold, and what customer wanted a sick dancer? But Usagi refused. Purging herself felt good. It was like she was throwing up memories. But she wouldn't dare tell that to Akiko or any doctor. They would think she was insane.

Eventually, Usagi lost track of the days. They melded into one another, like hot bronze. She kept wondering the same things...where is he? How is he? Him, him, him. But her thoughts veered the day she saw the first premature green leaf sprouting off a branch. And realized that she had not bled in nearly two months.


She nodded. "You're pregnant. Two months."

Usagi's posture crumpled. Burying her face in her hands, she slumped forward. Rei stood where she was, not knowing what to say. She felt a sliver of the hopelessness that Usagi must feel. After a few moments, Rei knelt down and placed her hand on her friend's shoulder.

"Don't worry, Usagi. I know of a doctor who takes care of these things. Akiko doesn't even have to know and you can be back to work in a week."

Usagi nodded, but never gazed up. Was another life really growing inside of her? If anything, she felt only death. She could barely survive on her own, and now she had the burden of caring for another person. A person who depended on her for everything. But Usagi could give nothing.

"When can I see this doctor?"

"Tomorrow if you like."

Usagi looked up with hardened tears in her eyes. "Yes. Tomorrow is fine."

"Usagi," Rei said, pausing. "I'm sorry. That it has to come to this."

"I can't have this child, Rei. So don't be sorry," her voice shook. "Maybe one day I'll be sorry. But right now, I can only think of myself."

Nodding, Rei glanced at her friend. Usagi detected pity in those violet eyes. Pity not for the situation, but for the person. Rei felt sorry for who Usagi was. Turning away, Usagi gazed out of the window. And wished that it were already tomorrow.


Plodding home, Usagi felt numb. A few times she rubbed her stomach, trying to feel for something. But her abdomen was flat. She felt nothing inside of her. To think that she was carrying some strange man's child. Wouldn't he care? Wouldn't he want to know? Probably not. Her customers always seemed so indifferent. She wondered whose it could be. Rei had said two months. That would have been January. She recalled who she had been with. January had been that awful blizzard. There hadn't been many customers then. So, then-.

Usagi's heart jumped. She was surprised she hadn't known it sooner. A wave of nausea pulsed through her. Touching her stomach again, she felt a strange presence. As if the baby had gained a consciousness of its mother's thought. No, Usagi thought, not this. Not him. But she knew. A gut feeling so strong. An intuition like glass- hard, cutting, and clear.

"Mamoru?" she whispered.

She felt the answer inside of her, move, breathe, cling to her. For a moment, Usagi didn't know whether the tears gliding down her cheeks were those of sadness or bliss. But she did know that she had lost Mamoru, perhaps for good. He had sent no word to her. He had left. She loved him and she had nothing of him. But now, she did. Caressing her stomach again, Usagi decided that she could not see that doctor. She could not give up her child. Their child.


Akiko would find out sooner or later. Usagi preferred later so she didn't tell her immediately. The consequences would be harsh. Usagi's debt would increase dramatically. She wouldn't be able to entertain as much. There would be another mouth to feed. Akiko surely would not be happy about that. But, it wasn't her choice.

At first, Usagi felt terrified. For herself, her situation, the baby. She cried often, sniffling Mamoru's name, wishing he could be here. Wishing he could be a true father, not just physically, but emotionally. He would be overjoyed if he knew. Usagi wondered what it would be like if he hadn't gone away. Together, they could be a family.

But as the weeks wore on and Usagi saw her body changing, she became excited. The first time she felt the baby kick, baby, she nearly cried from happiness. Sometimes, she would lay in the darkness of her room, touching her swelling stomach. It was just a small bump in her flesh, but it was there. A sign.

The only other person in the world who knew was Rei. She relied on the priestess for support. And Usagi was grateful. But, still she felt it wasn't enough. She was going to be a mother! Usagi wanted to shout it to the world. But the world wouldn't understand. An unwed, pregnant courtesan. That was a scandal, not a joy. The thought dampened her spirits.

When she woke up queasy and looked around, she wanted to weep. To drown herself in her own tears. But she thought of herself and Mamoru and her baby. And knew that death was no longer an option.


Only two days in Kyoto and already Mamoru had witnessed the murder of a lieutenant and a captain at the hands of angry townspeople. While he hadn't known the slain officers, the sight jarred him. They had done nothing except stand outside of the palace stoically, as is the way of a samurai. They endured the names and eventually stones pelted at them.

Mamoru had heard of the extraordinary beauty of Kyoto. Perhaps, then, this was not the same Kyoto. Charred building frames were everywhere. Windows were cracked and boarded. The streets were filthy. The stench of death pervaded. The troops' quarters within the palace walls were jammed with soldiers from all over Japan. Claustrophobia became a nightly battle with Mamoru.

When he wasn't patrolling side streets or silencing small rebellions in the market, he spent most of his time worrying about Usagi. He wondered whether she would obey the request of his letter and wait for him and prayed that she was faring alright. Mamoru contemplated sending her money. But with Kyoto's poverty and desperation, he doubted it would ever reach her.

At nights, he closed his eyes and imagine what her hair would feel like woven through his fingers. Or how her skin smelled, overwhelmingly floral. He swore he heard the echo of her laughter in the silence. But most of all, he missed the fulfilled peace of being close to her. Her soft, mellifluous voice recounting the details of the day. The pressure of her head against his shoulder. Her crisp eyes, like the insides of a flower. Her.

Everyday Mamoru looked out from the palace and could see smoke, hear cries of agony. This was a city and a country of unrest. Forces battling over control. Of what? Dirt and rocks and grass? It was only land, Mamoru thought. Let the rebels have it. What did he care? Of course, he could never admit that to anyone. Loyalty towards the emperor, the shogun, the nation was his duty. Protecting them, his life. But truthfully, Mamoru didn't care. Only one thing mattered. And she was very far away.


Usagi sat on a stone bench, admiring a blossoming cherry tree. Spring had burst in like a rainshower, drenching everything. Usagi felt like she had no cares. Inhaling the sky, she smiled and felt a kick in her belly. She placed her hand over her stomach.

"What an amazing day," Minako said, sauntering over to her.

Usagi smiled. "I agree. It's perfect."

Minako sat down next to her friend. "There will be no better evening for the cherry blossom viewing party than tonight, I think. Kaneko couldn't have planned it better."

Usagi nodded. "I almost forgot about that."

"What? It's practically our biggest party of the year."

"I guess my mind has been elsewhere lately. But, I'm excited, now that you mentioned it. I finally received that new pink and yellow obi that I ordered a month ago. It's beautiful. I think I'll wear it tonight."

"You'd better," Minako joked, "The customers come prepared to celebrate. The better you look, the more money you get. At least, that's what Akiko says."

Usagi giggled. Standing, Minako excused herself and left Usagi solitary once again. She remained on the bench for a few more minutes, and then got up also. The festivities would soon begin.


The Kaneko manor was once the most impressive in the city. Stone walls rose around the grounds. Pruned plants and trees grew thick around the dark wood of the house. The roof had been sculpted by a professional artist, a job that had taken over five years.

Lord Kaneko, though old and bent-over, still remained as feisty as when he commanded most of the samurai of Edo, over fifty years past. His elaborate bashes made him famous throughout the region. Well known military officers, actors, dancers, poets, and artists came from everywhere to attend his popular cherry-blossom viewing. The Lord usually hired anywhere from twenty to forty entertainers depending on his mood that year. This year, because of the heavy snows, he only retained twenty-six.

Usagi had once heard her father gushing about one of the Kaneko parties. Never had he been in the company of Japan's finest citizens, eaten more delicacies, witnessed a better performance, viewed such perfect cherry-blossoms.

No wonder Usagi felt tingly with excitement. As she adjusted her hairsticks, she couldn't help but smile. Tonight she would celebrate winter's end. She would be radiant. Giggling, Usagi left her room and met the other shirabyooshi in the foyer. They walked to the party together, all reaching new levels of giddiness.

It was more than Usagi could have imagined. Red and yellow lanters floated over the small lake in Kaneko's garden. The night was clear and crisp; sunset's last shades streaked across the sky. And cherry blossoms engulfed the trees. When the wind blew, petals scattered onto the grass.

"Like rain," whispered Usagi.

Minako looked to her and nodded, her eyes wide with the beauty of it too.

The guests would not arrive for an hour. Until then, Usagi and her colleagues spent time rehearsing the steps of their dances. The first guests trickled in, the courtesan’s cue that work had officially begun. Swept up in a conversation about the fabulous new silks being made right in Edo, Usagi completely lost track of the party. She was surprised when she looked around to see masses of people, laughing, sipping sake, walking around the garden. Amazing. The colors, the sounds, she needed to drink it all in.

A shirabyooshi named Yumi approached her. "It seems you've never been to one of these before."

"Is it that obvious?" Usagi replied.

"I remember my first Kaneko party, seven years ago. It was even bigger than this one. Then, all of celebrities and lavishness blew my mind. I was so enthralled I forgot the steps to one of the dances. Akiko never let me live that one down. But now...well, I don't know."

Usagi waited for her to collect her thought.

"Now...the parties just seem flashy, overblown. Why does he do this, I ask myself. Kaneko's nearly eighty, you know. If I were that old, I'd run from people and places like this."

Usagi nodded. "You would?"

"The rich lead very different lives from us, Usagi. In some ways better. But look around. It makes me pity old Kaneko."

"Pity? How can you pity a man with this kind of wealth and notoriety?"

Yumi smiled at Usagi. "I had those once. The money. The fame. My mother posed for a great artist. She got paid and treated well. She was an icon in my town. I won't bore you with the sad story of her life and mine. But, Usagi, you'll see when you become my age that sometimes your life traps you."

Furrowing her forehead, Usagi looked at Yumi. "I'm sorry, Yumi. I don't think I understand."

Pausing, the older shirabyooshi inhaled. She closed her eyes, held the breath, and then released it slowly. "Usagi, there's nothing more confining than the limits we set for ourselves. Nothing. Not class, not wealth. Those are just coincidences of birth. Only one thing drags people down, Usagi. One thing."

Not wanting to be rude, Usagi only stared at Yumi. She had drank too much sake. She wasn't making sense. Just then, three gongs sounded, signaling the start of the entertainment. Usagi and Yumi both trekked to the stage area to retrieve their props and awaited their turn to dance.


After the performance, Usagi weaved through the crowd, chatting, telling wild stories, cackling, and entertaining. Soon the long night caught up to her. She suppressed a yawn as she mingled with a group of older men. Pouring them sake, Usagi craved sleep. Since becoming pregnant, she got tired easily and quickly.

"...I told him that he looked like General Takekuchi must feel."

"And he said?"

"'Don't compare me to that wash-up. Who do you think I am? Why, he can't even control those idiots in Kyoto.' Then he went on, bragging..."

Usagi's attention perked up once the older man with grey streaks in his hair mentioned Kyoto. Since Mamoru's departure, Usagi had heard little of the situation there. Her worry for him overwhelmed her curiosity.

"Pardon me, sir," Usagi interjected, once the conversation came to a lull. "But you mentioned the Kyoto rebellions. Do you know anything about them?"

The older man shook his head. "All I know is that the shogun underestimated the 'tiny rebellion.' I'm a doctor, you know, and they wanted me to go over there, to assist treating the casualties. Well, I said I'd make my way over to Kyoto as soon as I could, but there were no guarantees. Yes, they're giving our troops quite a fight."

"So there are many injured men?" another man asked.

The doctor shrugged. "So I've heard. The letter sounded urgent, that's all I..."

Usagi stopped listening. Her stomach trembled and she felt woozy. Licking her lips, she felt like she was chewing on an oversized wad of gauze. Dread paralyzed her. An image of Mamoru, bloodied, struggling, filled her. She envisioned smoke and screams and sheer terror.

She tried to collect her spinning head. But when she did that, she simply became nauseous. Usagi blinked several times to clear her vision. It helped temporarily. When her dizziness returned, she panicked. Breathing took much effort. Her brain was being crushed.

"Young lady?" she heard in the background. "Are you feeling-"

And then, the world halted and faded to a comfortable black.


She awoke in her room, head pounding. Candles illuminated the walls and ceiling. As her surroundings became clearer, Usagi saw Akiko, Yumi, Minako, and one of the men she had been talking with at the party. He was thin and had protruding cheekbones. Grey streaked his short, black hair. In an earlier time, he might have been handsome. Now, the man seemed stately and calm, not grotesque, but certainly not the most attractive person.

"Miss," he asked, "Do you know where you are?"

Looking up at the three worried faces of Akiko, Yumi and Minako, Usagi nodded.

"Do you know what happened?" the man said.

"I...I fainted?"

He nodded.

"We were very worried, Usagi," Yumi said.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" asked Usagi towards the man leaning over her.

"I'm a doctor. Guro Umino. You collapsed at Kaneko's party and I helped bring you here."

"Oh. Thank you."

"Don't thank me, please. It's only right for a doctor to help a beautiful, young lady."

Usagi managed a small smile, then closed her eyes.

"Usagi?" Akiko said. "Doctor, she'll be alright, won't she?"

"Yes, she'll be fine. I'd say this was just a spell. Probably the combination of tonight's excitement, the sake, and her pregnancy got to her."

Usagi's eyes popped open.

"Pr-pregnancy?" Akiko said.

The doctor seemed surprised. "Er...yes. You didn't know?"

As he looked down at Usagi, she turned her face away.

"Usagi?" Did you know about this?" Akiko asked.

Usagi nodded.

"And you didn't say anything?"

Usagi's eyes filled with tears and she felt herself losing her grip on reality. The doctor noticed her breathing become labored.

"Miss Akiko, please. This young lady needs rest. You should discuss this in the morning once she has gotten some sleep. I'm going to give her an elixir to ease the dizziness. If you'll excuse us."

Once Akiko had left the room, the doctor turned towards Usagi. "Now relax. How far along are you?"

"Almost four months, I think."

He smiled. "And have you seen a doctor?"

"Only once. That's when I discovered I was pregnant."

The doctor studied Usagi's worried features. She had the eyes of one who has seen too much in too short a time. One weary of her life. Such a shame; she couldn't have been more than twenty. From her situation, it seemed she would be facing many more years of hardship. Umino had seen the affects of unwanted pregnancies in young shirabyooshi. He had performed enough abortions to know how it weighed down their spirits. How could this kind of life not sink one's hope? He sighed.

"Miss Usagi, I know this can be a tough situation. But you need to find a doctor who can do the procedure before its too late."

"Before what's too late? What procedure?"

"The abortion, Miss Usagi. You know, it becomes a lot riskier later in the pregnancy."

Usagi's face turned to ice. "I'm keeping my baby, Doctor Guro."

Raising his eyebrows, the doctor looked at her. She gazed back at him resolutely. Umino could tell she had reached a decision long before. And from her set eyes and straight lips, he could see that she would not betray that choice. People need to make their own mistakes. Umino had learned this throughout his long career caring for the ill and injured. Let the girl live her own life. He nodded.

"Well, just make sure that you get care for yourself and your child."

"I will. Thank you doctor."

She managed a small smile before resting her head back on her pillow, closing her eyes, and drifting off into a black sleep.


She awoke to Akiko's face. It stared at her, expectant and worried.

"How are you feeling Usagi?" Akiko asked.

"Better. Thank you."

She noticed a steaming bowl in Akiko's hands. "I made this for you. It's my mother's recipe. She used to give this to me when I was ill."

"Thank you."

Usagi accepted the bowl and sipped the broth. The warmth felt good traveling down her body. "It's delicious."

Smiling, Akiko reached for Usagi's hand and squeezed it. Suspicion, already nipping in her thoughts, knocked on Usagi's better judgment. Shouldn't Akiko be calling her a liar or a sneak or a hussy?

"You're afraid," Akiko said.

Usagi looked up at the old woman, wondering how she read her thoughts.

"A little. I don't know what you're thinking."

"Oh, it doesn't matter what I think. I know that these circumstances can be difficult. The first time I became pregnant, I was terrified."

"You? This has happened to you before?"

Akiko chuckled. "It happens to most of us, Usagi. With what we do, it's only natural. But don't worry. We have a doctor for these things and the abortion doesn't hurt so much. After a week, you'll never even know it was there."

"Abortion," Usagi repeated flatly, as if she had been waiting for it. She sighed and began to feel woozy again. Rubbing her temples, she said "I need my medicine."

After gulping down the vial of liquid, Usagi inhaled and looked towards Akiko. She had a calm, motherly look on her face. Usagi studied her features. She had never noticed it before, but the skin around Akiko's cheeks sagged heavily. Like a frown had eroded into her flesh.

"Akiko," Usagi began, "Does anyone ever keep her child?"

"Why no, Usagi! Children don't fit into our lifestyle."

Swallowing, Usagi closed her eyes. She centered her whirling head, feeling a presence in her. She begged the spirit for courage.

"Akiko, I..."

"Are you alright Usagi? Here, lay down. You need-"

"No! I'm fine! Just let me talk. Akiko, I can't get rid of this baby."

Akiko was no stupid woman. She knew can't meant won't.

"Usagi. Don't talk garbage. You cannot be a shirabyooshi and a mother ay the same time."

"Why not?"

"Because, can you imagine telling a customer to hurry up and get it over with cause I have to feed the baby? Usagi, things don't work like that in this business."

"Well, I'm not killing my child."

Akiko's nostrils flared. Of all the girls in her house, Usagi had always caused the most trouble. Rude, proud, stubborn. She had cost Akiko more time and money than she was worth.

"Do you really want the burden of raising some stranger's baby? Huh?" Akiko yelled.

"He wasn't a stranger!"

Narrowing her eyes, Akiko stood. "You were warned, Usagi, not to become attached to anybody! First you disobey me with that soldier and now with his kid! I don't need this insolence. You're not a samurai's daughter anymore."

Usagi hardened her jaw. "You're right. I'm not a samurai's daughter anymore. I won't be puppeted by you like I was by him."

The old woman glared down at Usagi. "Either you get rid of the baby. Or I get rid of you."

Somehow, Usagi had expected the ultimatum. She felt strength surge in her. The answer struck her. Consequences were miles away.

"I'll leave tonight," she replied.

Akiko opened her mouth to retort. Instead she stormed from the room, not knowing whether she had won or lost. When she was gone, Usagi gasped for breath and lay back down on her futon. It should have been her dream come true. Finally being released from the clutches of her prison. But with no food, no money, and no one except the child inside of her, Usagi trembled with regret.


A quiet farewell awaited Usagi. Only Minako met her in the foyer. Eyes overflowing with fear, Minako whispered "Good luck."

Usagi tried to smile. "I deserve this."

Looking down, Minako shook her head. "No you don't. Nobody deserves anything."

Quickly, Usagi wrapped her arms around her friend. She wanted to show optimism, tell Minako that perhaps they might meet again. But she knew that it would be a lie. So she said nothing. And stepped into an engulfing darkness.


She had made up her mind that afternoon to go to Kyoto. Akiko had banished her and now Usagi had the opportunity to find Mamoru and perhaps her happiness. Yes, she would go to Kyoto, she didn't know how yet, and locate Mamoru, even though she wouldn't know where, and live happily with their son.

Usagi knew the child in her was a boy. With every kick and movement, she became even more assured that he would follow in his father's footsteps. She would call him Mamoru, as well. Because he would be like his father.

Rubbing her stomach, Usagi walked out of the garden and into the street. She would walk the night and in the morning find someone who could take her over the mountains, to Kyoto. The journey might take a week, she estimated. She would be back with Mamoru in less than a month. The thought thrilled her. She felt fear melt away for the first time in nearly four months.


"A pound of rice! I-I don't have that."

"Well, then, I guess you won't be goin' with me then, huh?"

The man with three front teeth missing turned from Usagi and strode away. Sighing, Usagi moved on to the next person she saw with a small cart.

"Excuse me, please. But by any chance are you going to Kyoto?"

A woman glared at her. "We might pass by that way. Why?"

"Oh, good. I was wondering if perhaps you wouldn't mind if I tagged along on your wagon."

For a moment, the woman looked like she might start yelling. But she chortled instead.

"You're kidding, right?"

Usagi raised an eyebrow. "No, ma'am. I'm not kidding. Would I be able to-"

"Listen, girly. I've been watching you go from farmer to merchant asking to hitch free rides all over the place. Are you stupid? No one in his right mind's gonna lug your weight onto his already burdened load for free. You gotta pay or you gotta walk."

"But, I don't have any money," pleaded Usagi.

"Then I guess you're walking, pretty face," the woman smirked.

The woman turned her back and resumed loading bundles of wrapped packages onto her wagon. Frowning, Usagi backed away into the commotion of the Edo marketplace. Lack of sleep racked her brain. She felt disoriented and hot. In her fine silk robe, she stood out like a stain. Farmers, merchants, and peasants wearing dirty linens gawked at the stranger in their midst. Gawked, but ignored otherwise. No one offered to assist her, ask if she was lost, nothing. Usagi felt insulted and annoyed.

Striding to a quiet corner of the market, Usagi wondered what to do. The woman had said "You gotta pay or you gotta walk." Getting a job wasn't an option. She needed to be in Kyoto as soon as she could. Thievery definitely was out. Perhaps she could sneak onto a wagon. But that was risky. Angry farmers wouldn't like the idea of a free ride. Shading her eyes from the sun, Usagi squinted towards the west. It seemed there was only one option. She started walking.


By nightfall, Usagi had completely left the boundaries of Edo. Her feet were blistered. Her calves ached. And her lower back throbbed. Night engulfed her. Too exhausted to be afraid, Usagi fell asleep by the side of the road, covered by tall grasses. She dreamt about Mamoru.

In the morning, Usagi awoke and reality set in. She had no food and her stomach felt like a wrung rag. She had no water and her throat hurt. She had no money. She was a woman, traveling alone with no protection and a child on the way. Sitting under a tree, she contemplated her disastrous situation. Before urgency could frighten her, she stood and began striding down the dusty road. She needed to get somewhere, anywhere.


A week on the road had taught Usagi the necessities of theft, bribery, and supplication. Hunger, thirst, and fatigue were inversely proportionate to morals, she discovered. She never became desperate enough to stop walking though. In fact, a vision of her reunion with Mamoru fueled her blistered feet. She would appear in a cloud of smoke, glide gracefully through it, and nuzzle into his open arms. Then he would whisk her off to the country where they could lead an unassuming life with their new son.

On day nine of her trek, Usagi came upon a familiar fork in the road. Familiar because she knew that the right path led her to a small village by a lake, and that the left road shot straight through her home town and eventually, to Kyoto. Why hadn't she remembered that? Swallowing, Usagi gazed at the right path for a long moment. She knew that taking it would cost her at least two days. In her mind, heartache seemed less painful than the throbbing of her feet. So she decided. The left path. Even if it meant she would pass down streets haunted by memories.

The village temple appeared first, just as she remembered. Nothing had changed. But she had only been gone for a year, so arrogance and a distorted sense of time caused her to believe that things might have altered so dramatically. Soon, houses rose in the distance. The Kino mansion that she and her old friend Makoto had once played in. The Hardback garden, her favorite in town. Her heart quickened as she neared the one building she so desperately needed to see and avoid.

She paused and stared up at the dark wood gates. And memories flooded back to her.

Cherry-blossom parties. Her mother brushing her hair. Streaming through the house, servants chasing after her. Playing horsy with her brother. Feasts. Butterfly hairclips. Her father. Her father's disapproving gaze. Her father's whispered disappointment.

Usagi shut her eyes, hoping that when she opened them, she would be garbed in her favorite plum kimono, smelling of jasmine. Her feet would be smooth. Her body, pure. And she might still hate Mamoru. And not love him enough to shuck away everything of value in her life. Then, things would be simple.

Sighing, Usagi slowly raised her eyelids. She felt a kick in her belly, reminding her that time only moves forward, despite her own desires. Staring at the grey stone structure, Usagi knew she couldn't pass by without visiting. She would stay the night. Eat, drink, rest. She would tell her parents that she had come to inform them of their grandchild. The son they wanted from her by the husband they chose for her. And that she was on a pilgrimage to Kyoto, to pray for the child's health. Then, perhaps, they would lend her a wagon and she would be on her way. Wealthy again.

Usagi practically skipped through the gates and up to the front door. Rapping three times, her signature knock, she waited expectantly for the door to swing open and for her troubles to be whisked away. But when the door creaked open and saw a strange face, not Hiroshi the butler, she furrowed her eyebrows.

"Can I help you miss?" asked an old woman.

"Oh, yes. You must be a new servant."

"No, miss. I've been with the family for years."

Shrugging, Usagi figured that her father must have employed close to thirty servants. She had probably worked in the stables or at night, that would explain the unfamiliar face.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Usagi grinned. "Well it's good to be home."

She was about to step into the foyer when the old woman frowned. "Excuse me, but who are you here to see?"

"Who am I-?" Usagi was puzzled. "I live here. At least, I used to. It's Usagi. Don't you recognize me?"

"Usagi? That name doesn't sound familiar at all."

"I'm Tsukino Kenji's daughter."

The woman's face changed. "Oh, I see." She smiled.

Returning the woman's grin, Usagi once again tried to step through the door.

"No, young lady, you misunderstand. Tsukino Kenji lives here no longer."

Usagi stared at the woman for a trace of joking. When she found none, she said slowly "No, you misunderstand. I've lived here my whole life. This is my home."

"I'm sorry, miss. The Tsarina’s live on the outskirts now. They have for almost a year."

"The outskirts?" Usagi scrunched her face up. Only farmers lived on the rim of the village. Remembering the family's financial situation, Usagi figured they had built a smaller mansion on the only good property left, outside the village. Nodding, she apologized to the woman for her troubles and strode out of the village.


Rice paddies stretched to the horizon. The wet ground was sprinkled with green reeds and brown, hunched figures, the farmers. Usagi could see no grand house, no sign that her family had relocated to the outskirts. Annoyed, she cursed the old woman's directions. Perhaps some one sane could tell her the whereabouts of her family. Striding further down the path, she approached a duo of women wiping their brows and gossiping.

"Excuse me!" Usagi called.

They turned and looked at the stranger interrupting their rest.

"But I'm looking for a family that lives in this region. Tsukino. Tsukino Kenji is the head."

Arms akimbo, one young woman scanned the fields. She spotted who she searched for and pointed.

"There," she said.

Usagi nodded and thanked the young woman for showing her someone who might tell her where her family now resided. Puzzled, the woman furrowed her brow, then shrugged and turned back to her friend. Sighing, Usagi wiped the sheen of sweat from her face. All this simply to find her family. Well, she'd better find their house soon. Hunger clenched her stomach. Nearing the stooped figure that the woman pointed to, Usagi thought that the mannerisms seemed familiar. The woman plucked rice gingerly, unlike the other farmers' haste. Straightening, the woman frowned and adjusted the large-brimmed hat on her head.

And Usagi's heart plunged into her stomach.

"Mother?" she whispered.

The woman removed her hat completely, baring her entire face and confirming Usagi's fear. Horrified, she stood mouth agape, feeling her pulse beat, beat, beat against her eardrums. Was this a trick? Perhaps the heat had affected her sense.

"Ikuko!" snapped a voice in the distance. A voice Usagi could never forget. The voice of a winter breeze at twilight. And then the proud samurai appeared, though now he was withered. Usagi noticed this even from the distance. She felt the ice, despite the heat.

"Ikuko!" her father called. "Stop fidgeting! We need two more basketfuls by tonight."

Her mother immediately tied the hat back on and stumped over. Although bared to them, in painful sight of everyone, Usagi went unnoticed. Her mother simply needed to turn her head, her father lift his eyes. Still staring, Usagi felt the whole world go silent. Except for the throbbing in between her ears. The Tsarinas...reduced to this? Her faced flushed with shame. Farmers. The people her father had once called "as unimportant as the single grains of rice they harvest."

In Edo, in Akiko's house, when contemplating her degradation, Usagi always knew that her legacy, her past, vindicated her present. She always knew that the good life awaited her back at home, if she could put her pride past her. And now, that very Tsukino pride had demolished the legacy. Staring at her mother and father, Usagi felt a weak breeze vainly try to ease her discomfort.

There was nothing in her past. Even if she had returned to that stone mansion, there still would be nothing. Usagi felt remorse sink her. How moronic to think that she could return to the past. Time moved in one direction only. Time was brutal. Quietly, unnoticed, it ravaged her life.

Tears streaked her dirty cheeks. She hadn't realized that she had begun to cry. But as she gazed at her family, Usagi knew that there was only one thing she could do about her tears. Slowly, she turned. One foot moved. And then the other. And again, Usagi walked.


That night, exhausted and empty, Usagi sat amongst the hard roots of a tree. Her eyes burned. Although she had strained to suppress her tears, by mid-afternoon she could no longer withstand the vise on her throat. She had cried from then on. Now, under the brambles, she remembered the day, the day before, the week before, the months, the year, the decade. Like a river, they had all tumbled together, lost to each other, to create this day. And soon this day would be drowned.

She knew an unborn child slept within her. Tears pooled in her eyes. Everyday, on and on, that same fate. All those days, thousands of them, for her to be here? In the darkness, hungry, valued by no one. That was the river of her life. And probably her child's. The moon's grey luster sketched shadows all around. The humidity breathed. Sighing, Usagi sank down on her side. As her hand touched the earth, she felt something smooth and cool.

A shard of mirror about the size of her hand. Although she didn't know how it could have gotten there, she held it in her palm and stared.

It divulged a face. Haggard. Coated in a concoction of sweat and dust. The flesh sinking into the bone like quicksand. Blinking, Usagi felt a large tear cascade down that flesh. Her ugliness nauseated her. She choked on a sob, hid her face in her hands, and squeezed tightly, her nails digging into the skin around her forehead.

The shard of mirror fell softly in her lap, surprising her out of tears. Something on her face stung. Examining the pain on her right cheekbone, Usagi felt a warm ooze. She rubbed her fingers together and, even in the darkness, knew that they were coated in blood.

Trembling, she picked up the shard again. That emaciated face stared up at her. "Sickening," it whispered, like a friend. She ran her thumb down the edge, half-disgusted, half-delighted when red sprang from her skin. Quietly, she watched it trickle down the length of her finger, the fleshy part of her palm, and finally to her wrist. A trail. X marks the spot.

Something warned her, called, pleaded, cried for her to throw the mirror down and get away. But her heart screamed "Fate!" The mirror was there. It was sharp. It told her everything. She dug the glass into her skin, marveling at the crimson river. The stinging pulsed up her arm, to her head. Her brain spun. The trickle of color from her own flesh hypnotized her. Still quivering she placed down the mirror and sighed. And closed her eyes and felt peace, finally.

 

- - -

 

The End.

Of Chapter 4!!!!

Did I scare ya? Don't worry folks. Usagi might have a chance in Chapter 5. Stay tuned.