The Dragon's Flower

by Wyn Estelle Owens

  Shichiro tugged his ponytail one more time, then began describing what they would need in order to flee. Hanako listened attentively, but the whole time she had to fight down the sudden swirl of anticipation in her gut. Finally, at long last, she would leave the pagoda and see the wonders of the lands beyond.

  Shichiro had wanted to leave that night, but Hanako had convinced him it would be best to get a good night’s sleep and leave with he first light of day. So, begrudgingly, he had agreed, and when supper had come, Hanako had carefully divided it in half. The first half was eaten, and the rest was carefully wrapped up, ready to be taken on their journey.

  Besides the basics (a change of clothes, a comb, and things like that), Hanako did not pack much. She had very little sentimental value to most of it, though she did pack some of her finer embroidery projects and nicer jewelry, in case they need to sell things off for funds. One extraneous thing that she did pack was the present she had been working on for Shichiro, but she buried that in the bottom of the bag in the hopes that he would not see.

  Shichiro, of course, had to pack almost nothing, and so everything was quite prepared by the time they had awakened the next morning. Slowly and carefully they got dressed, Shichiro in his usual travel-stained gi and hakama instead of any of the nicer clothing that had been provided for him upon his marriage, and Hanako in her simplest yukata. They gathered up their bundles, and then Shichiro took Hanako’s hand and led her out of the pagoda and onto the engawa. Once there, he paused and drew forth the braided rope and looped it around the spur at edge of the roof, and gestured to Hanako. “Come here, I’ll help you. You’ll have to be careful, though.”

  Hanako nodded, and took his hand, allowing him to assist her as she grabbed the rope and he slowly lowered her down to the next level, before casually swinging down himself.

  It seemed like it took forever, but finally Shichiro lowered Hanako onto the ground and jumped down after her, freeing the rope and tucking it safely within in his sleeve.

  Hanako hadn’t moved yet, though. She remained frozen and still, staring about her with wide eyes. The sky seemed so much farther away than it had ever been, but the trees seemed so tall, and the smell of earth was rich and sweet.

  “Hanako?” Shichiro asked gently, and she snapped her eyes up to look at him with a sheepish smile.

  “Yes… I’m sorry, for getting distracted. It’s just…”

  Shichiro grinned at her, shook his head and said, “No, it’s all right. I completely understand. But we should hurry. Come on, Hanako-love.” And he held out his hand for her to take. Hanako blinked up at him, nervous and unsure, surrounded by a strange new world which she had all but despaired of experiencing. After a long moment, she reached out hand caught his hand in a return grasp. It was weak and faint and gentle, but still there, and Shichiro twined his own strong, rough, calloused fingers in between her own, and all was right and good.

  “Come, this way,” he said urgently, and he began to hurry across the clearing into the shelter of the forest, but that was when the first sounds of the Caravan burst into the clearing.

  Shichiro stopped so suddenly he almost fell flat on his face, and Hanako could feel the blood draining from her cheeks. Her grip on her husband’s hand became frighteningly tight, and she whispered, “I forgot! Mother always visits at this time, how could I have forgotten? It’s all my fault, I…”

  Shichiro shook his head once, already running again to shelter away from enemy eyes, “No. It’s not your fault. It’ll just make things a little more difficult, that’s all.”

  He pulled her along as fast as he could, and as soon as they reached the cover of the forest he turned and faced her. “I need you to listen carefully to me, Hanako-love. Can you do that?”

  She stared up at him, and Shichiro’s heart clenched. Her eyes were wide and frightened, and swimming with guilty tears, and her face was still pale, and he could feel her trembling through the grip he had on her hand.

  Months ago Shichiro had sworn to protect her, his wife. Days ago Shichiro had sworn that he would do anything to save her, as his Hanako. In this moment, as she looked up at him with fearful eyes full of trust, as his heart swelled with fury and fear and a wonderful, painful warmth, Shichiro knew he meant it.

  “We don’t have much time,” Shichiro murmured, and drew her cold, little hand close to his chest. Hanako nodded solemnly, and Shichiro licked his dry lips. “If you head straight in this direction, you’ll eventually reach the banks of a river. Follow that river downstream, and you’ll reach a city at its end, where the mouths feed into the sea. Go around the outskirts and walk along the shore of the sea, until you find a street named the Street of the Crane. On that street is an inn, called the Inn of the Waning Tide. Here, take this.”

  He pulled his wakizashi, sheath and all, from his obi, and carefully tucked it into Hanako’s own obi, safe and secure. “If you show this wakizashi and the symbol on it to the owners of the inn, they’ll give you lodging and send a message to someone who will take you safely to my brother. A shinobi in my brother’s service. He’ll be wearing mostly dark colors, and have a black cloth covering the lower half of his face, and goes by the name Ichiro-san, though I doubt it’s the slippery man’s name. Tell him you’re my wife, and he’ll take you to Isao, and guard you well. He may be slippery, but he’s loyal and strong.”

  Shichiro didn’t like this, but it was the best way he could think of to insure her safety. He’d have much preferred to tell her to go to Manami for help, but the temple was difficult to find and the way there was often treacherous, especially when they were covered with snow. But Hanako was the Imperial Heir, and he just had to believe that the Heavenly Emperor would look out for her. Shichiro tried to think of anything that he was missing, anything that he needed to tell her to keep her safe, but he couldn’t think of anything. Hopefully it would be enough.

  “And here,” he continued, withdrawing Katsumi’s diary from his sleeve where he had stashed it, and pressed it into her hands. “Take this, and you are to entrust it to none save my brother Isao. Do you promise?”

  “Yes, of course,” She said, and her voice was faint and confused. Numbly she took it and tucked it within her own sleeve, her pretty blue eyes wide. Shichiro stared into them, and cursed his heart for aching so.

  “Shichiro-san,” Hanako’s trembling voice said, “Dearest husband..” even as she paused, struggling to figure out what she wanted to say, Shichiro’s heart leapt at the name. He really wanted to say something about it, to ask her why she had called him that, but Shichiro knew that this wasn’t the time. “Why…” She said at last, “Why are you telling me this, as if you won’t be with me?”

  Shichiro closed his eyes, so he couldn’t see the look in Hanako’s pretty eyes, and squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Because I might not.”

  He heard her gasp, and how her hand fluttered in his grasp, but Shichiro kept his eyes closed. “You’re the one they want—they don’t need me. I’ll stay behind and keep them busy.”

  “Shichiro-san, Dearest Husband, please,” Hanako’s voice was high and thin and full of panic, “Look at me! Please!”

  Reluctantly, he dragged open his eyes, for how could Shichiro ignore her when she asked in a voice like that?

  Her eyes were wide and full of pain, but one hand snuck up and lay gently against his cheek.

  “Don’t worry,” Shichiro said, but the words felt hollow. “It’ll take a lot more than the guards Katsumi has with her to take me down. I’ll be fine.”

  Hanako stared at him, at the twist in his mouth and the shadows in his eyes, and felt the tears welling up within her again. It wasn’t quite a lie, and she knew he was very strong. Still, there wasn’t as much truth in Shichiro’s face as Hanako wished there would be. But she opened her mouth and said gently, “All right, I will trust you, my husband.”

  His mouth flicked up into a small smile, and he said, “Thank you. And… and if I can’t make it back to you, don’t be afraid. I’m sure
that you’ll be fine—you’re the heir of the Emperor, after all. Don’t the old legends say that the Heavenly Emperor has always protected the Imperial line?”

  Hanako nodded, carefully, and that was that. They stood there, not saying anything, for they weren’t sure what more to say.

  After a moment, Shichiro pulled Hanako gently into his arms, one arm holding her tightly against him, and the other gently cradling her head against his chest. He almost wanted to laugh about how small she was, but he didn’t dare to. He didn’t want anything to ruin this moment, or the memory of the gentle warmth of Hanako cradled in his arms.

  He held her there, for a second, before he stepped back, letting Hanako slip through his hold. She stared up at him, all pale cheeks and sky-blue eyes and raven hair, and he reached out, sliding his hands over her cheeks, and he placed a kiss on her forehead. He held Hanako’s head there, against his lips, before slowly letting go and stepping back.

  He could have enjoyed that much more, Shichiro thought sourly, if it hadn’t felt so much like a goodbye.

  Hanako was staring at him again, her hands clasped nervously over heart, and Shichiro turned away, thinking it would be easier for both of them if he didn’t keep looking at her. He let one hand rest on the hilt of his katana, ready for the battle that would soon be coming, and pointed in the direction of the river. He had to be strong, for Hanako’s sake.

  “Go on now, and run as fast as you can. Don’t worry, I swear I won’t let a single one get past me. My honor on it!”

  But Shichiro was weak, and so he looked over his shoulder, and saw his wife staring at him, tears rolling down her cheeks. He smiled at her and said, “Promise you’ll stay safe for me, will you?”

  She nodded, then bowed, deeply. “Goodbye, Honored Husband.”

  He nodded once, then said, “Goodbye, Hanako.”

  And with that, Shichiro turned away from his wife and faced his oncoming enemy.

  Hanako tarried one more moment, staring at her husband’s back, strong and fierce, and she knew that he would keep his promise. Then she turned and ran as fast as she could towards the river.

  Sadly, she had spent her entire life cooped up in three floors of a tower, and her stamina wasn’t much to look at. And by ‘wasn’t much’, it was completely non-existent. She kept pushing, however, determined to use the chance her husband was giving her. She would get away, and get to somewhere safe, and—and there she would wait until Shichiro could follow her.

  Because he would follow Hanako. He had to. There simply wasn’t another option.

  She kept staggering on for another ten minutes, until her tabi (which were far too big, for Shichiro had them given to her, since she did not own a pair herself) caught on a root, and sent Hanako careening into a tree.

  “Ow.” Hanako whimpered, and leaned against the tree, panting heavily in exhaustion. At this rate, she would completely and utterly fail her husband’s expectations and hopes!

  “What’s a nice little empress like you doing wandering around the forest all alone?” A voice said.

  Hanako was a sensible young woman, and reacted like all sensible young women would.

  She shrieked at the top of her lungs, jumping back in a panic, looking around her frantically.

  The only person in the clearing was a fox. A highly amused fox, who was laughing at her.

  Hanako stared at it. True, she had never been outside the pagoda before, but she was under the impression that animals did not usually laugh. Well, there was only one thing she could think to do.

  “Ah, was that you who spoke, Fox-san?”

  The fox looked at her, tilted its head to one side, and said, “What, no fainting? Don’t tell me I’m losing my touch.”

  Hanako shook her head, “Oh no, I’m still quite startled, don’t worry about ‘losing your touch’, Fox-san. I just have more important things to do than faint right now.”

  “Hm,” the fox said, twitching his tail. “I like you, little empress. I’m glad I volunteered to be your guardian.”

  Hanako stared at him in confusion, for almost nothing he said made any sense, but she was a princess, and manners were something that had been ingrained into her bones since before she could walk or speak. Accordingly, she bowed politely and said, “I am Princess Nishimura Hanako of the Dragons, Fox-san. May I ask what noble name you might bear?”

  The fox proceeded to perform what might have been a bow back, and said, “The name I have been given is Akashi Keiji, the Clever One of Akiyama. You may have heard of me, perhaps?”

  Hanako’s eyes flew wide, and she stared at the little fox in front of her. It seemed to be a quite ordinary fox—its fur was perhaps a brighter shade of red-orange than she had ever seen before, and its golden eyes sparkled with a keen intelligence, but nothing truly suggested anything unnatural about it. Well, except for the fact that it was conversing with her, perhaps.

  “Ah, forgive me, Fox-san,” Hanako began, her voice as calm as she could manage to make it, “if I refrain from believing you unless you can offer me some sort of proof. It is a rather high claim, to say you are one of the Celestial Guardians, even for a fox of such impressive talents as yourself.”

  The fox waved a paw. “No, no offense taken. It’d be rather foolish of you to accept something like that on face value. But I do have proof, little empress, as you see.”

  And with that, the Fox turned into a Man.

  Hanako stared at him, her eyes so wide she thought they would take over her entire face. He was very, very tall—far taller than Shichiro-her-husband, and he was very, very beautiful. His eyes were sharp and shone gold, and he was clad in pristine white hakama and kosode, with an burnt orange kimono decorated with autumn leaves and black branches, and there was a magnificent katana and wakizashi sheathed at his side. By far the most strange thing about him, however, was his long, long hair the color of the setting sun.

  “Well,” Hanako said, with what she personally believed to be quite admirable aplomb, “That definitely does seem to support your claim, Guardian-sama.”

  “I’m glad you think so,” Akashi Keiji said, with a strange flick of his fingers. It reminded Hanako of a fox flicking his tail.

  “However, I must ask,” Hanako said, “Why exactly are you here?”

  Akashi Keiji gave her a keen glance and raised an eyebrow, before suddenly smirking and saying, “Well, why don’t I give you the opportunity to figure that out? Why do you think I’m here?”

  Hanako stared at the strange man, who suddenly flickered back into the form of a fox and sauntered over to a large rock, which he proceeded to hop up upon and make himself comfortable.

  “Well… I would presume it has to do with the fact that you said that you volunteered to be my guardian,” Hanako mused, “which probably has to do with the fact that you keep calling me ‘little empress’.” She smiled and said, “Which is a good thing you came today and not sooner, because I only just found out who I am.”

  “Yes, I know,” Akashi Keiji said, his eyes sparkling with some strange amusement. “Your clever little husband told you. And you’re quite right.” He stood up, hopped down from the rock, and wandered over to her feet, where he proceeded to change into his human form. He bowed deeply and said, “It is my honor and pleasure to announce myself in service to your highness, little empress. By my honor, no harm shall come to you while you dwell under my protection.”

  “Thank you,” Hanako said, smiling brightly for the first time since Shichiro had stumbled into her arms yesterday. “I am very grateful, Akashi Keiji-sama.” But then she faltered and asked, “But… I was under the impression, from all the legends, that your honorable father, Tamotsu Eiji-sama, was the Guardian of the Imperial Family.”

  The Clever One smiled down at her in approval. “You’re quite right, in most cases. However, Tamotsu Eiji is more than just the guardian of the Imperial Family, he is a guardian of the seven realms as a whole. He is quite busy watching over the squabbling bunch of kits that these countries are at
the moment, so I volunteered to personally protect you, little empress, until this little mortal mess of yours has calmed down.”

  Hanako nodded. She was still a little confused, but it mostly made sense, and she decided she’d figure out the rest later. Accordingly, she bowed once more, “Then I am very thankful indeed, Guardian-sama.”

  And Akashi Keiji smiled at her and said, “It is my honor, little empress. And I have to say, after talking with you, I’m beginning to understand why the Heavenly Emperor chose to wait so long to revive the Imperial throne.”

  Hanako blinked at him in confusion. “Why’s that?”

  Akashi Keiji smiled at her and patted her on the shoulder, and said, “I can’t imagine a better person to revive the Imperial line with than you, little empress.” And after that declaration, which had the ‘little empress’ blinking at him in confusion, he turned into his fox form and said, “Now then, would you like a solution to your little stamina problem?”

  Hanako blinked, confused, and asked, “What sort of solution do you have in mind, Akashi Keiji-sama?”

  The next moment, the little fox had turned into a not-so-little fox, roughly about the size of a horse. “I am at your service, little empress. Where do you wish me to bear you?”

  Hanako stared at the Clever One for a long time, her eyes wide, before she stammered out, “Uh, b-but what ab-bout my husband? He—he should be along shortly.”

  The Fox eyed her, tilting his suddenly enlarged head to one side. “The little samurai is quite capable. He’ll be just fine—besides, I believe one of my kin may be flying to his aid even now. The Heavenly Emperor has too much planned for him to allow the samurai to die here alone.”

  A rush of relief, like the rising of the river in the rainy season, surged through Hanako and filled her heart, bursting forth from her mouth. “Oh, thank you, Guardian-sama! I don’t know how to thank you!”

  Akashi Keiji laughed—and it was a very strange, barking laugh, quite unlike anything she had heard before, and he said, “Little Empress, it’s not me you need to thank.”