I Have Known Fireflies
by Kakita Kaori
Set during the Twenty Festivals period
The starlight called him. Renshin thought for a moment of striding out into the darkness, where the Obsidian moon bathed the cascading branches of the cassia in silvery light. Instead he just smiled at his own foolishness. The trees that lined the neat streets of the Crane village were ancient, but tamed. Each draping branch had been trimmed to show off the golden petals for which the village was famous; the dead twigs and last year's leaves swept away. It was not the deep, dark green wildness of Kitsune Mori. And he was no young man to go chasing the moon on a summer night. The years had grayed his long hair and crisscrossed his sun-browned arms with veins. Decades of smiles left the marks of laughter around his green eyes...though the tears left no such scars. He had been tamed also, years ago, by the one he was truly searching for in the twilight.
The villagers had come just after sunset to speak to his wife. They were fretful of the stranger who had arrived in town, but seemed reluctant to say why. Renshin's wife had served this village as sonchou and chief magistrate for the last twenty years, in addition to her duties as sensei at the nearby Academy. It was a position of honor and one she had much desired. The village had been under her family's keeping for generations before the great Clan Wars had shattered the Crane Lands. It was usually a quiet role. Villages in the area frequently received strangers seeking refuge before presenting themselves at Kuyden Kakita or at the Academy. There seemed no reason for alarm.
Still, Kaori of course slid her blades into her obi and agreed to go. It was in her nature.
The moon had not risen much higher in the sky before running footsteps ended any thoughts of wild hunts through the twilight forest. A samurai-ko darted up the path to the shoji to meet him. In his eyes, she still moved like a graceful doe despite her years, but it was not the joy of the chase that he sensed now. She stopped short of him, straightened, and stilled her breaths before approaching him. As she climbed the steps onto the nure-en, she held up two fingers. He reached out to her, touching her fingertips with his own, their own special embrace. "Beloved...?"
His wife pressed a small scroll of ricepaper into his hand. "I need all your stealth and swiftness tonight, Anata. An old student of my father has challenged me. He has our son. You need to rescue Yoshirou and his family and take them to the Academy."
He didn't question, but drew her over the threshold to continue her explanation while he reached for his katana. "They are at home?"
"I do not know, but I am to go not far from there. This man....is not honorable. He will kill them if he lives to see the dawn. Yoshirou-kun is a good magistrate, but he is not Kenshinzen."
She seemed weary. When he turned to look at his wife, he saw the pain of old wounds and old sorrows etched into the lines of her face. He felt a stab of fear. "The challenger is Kenshinzen also? Omae, you are not as young as you were...Who is this man?"
Kaori’s voice was cold. "No. He was never Kenshinzen. He is a monster. He is Shimekiri."
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Yoshirou’s house was on the edge of the village, providing the young magistrate the best view of the Western approach. The road stretched to the northwest, and Renshin could see the silhouettes of trees whose deep roots braced the mud walls of the rice fields to either side. The moon glistened on the water. It left him precious few shadows in which to hide, but he pressed himself close to the ground and eased around the corner.
The open marketplace was empty of stalls, but lit by two bright lanterns. The lanterns served his purpose, casting the areas outside their light into deeper shadow and allowing him to draw nearer to the entrance of the home. The house was dark, and when Renshin pressed his ear to the wall, he could hear nothing from within. Once he knew where this Mad Crane was, he would slip in and find any trace of his son, Yoshirou’s wife Nejin, and their young daughter.
He did not have to wait long.
Renshin heard the brush of footsteps on the far side of the open space, and from his hiding place he could see his wife step boldly into the light of the first lantern. Her braided hair reflected the lantern’s light, and the blue silks she wore shimmered. In many ways, she looked much as she had when he first glimpsed her marching with the Fox Clan troops through Kitsune Mori. Her voice rang clearly through the empty marketplace.
“You wanted my attention? Here I am. Let your hostages go and we will settle things.”
Renshin could hear now the sound of footsteps and a hand on the shoji. He pressed himself even closer to the earth under the wooden nure-en. The front steps rose above him. The screen slid open and a man emerged from the darkened house. He was wrapped in a dingy white cloak. The hakama that passed near enough to touch were black. Long white hair streamed over his shoulders, brushing the magnificent daisho that hung at his hip. He smelled of blood. He smelled of death.
The older bushi waited silently as the man sauntered toward the pool of light provided by the second lantern. When he reached it, Renshin he could see the man's face was painted with white and blue. Kabuki, he had learned it was called when he first arrived in Crane lands, though Renshin thought little of the artform. This must be the one they called The Black Kabuki. The Demon Blade of the Shadowlands. Shimekiri.
"We meet again, Princess. I fear I cannot bring my guests out; I am sure they will be found soon enough.”
His wife’s face showed no flicker of emotion at the words. “I see.” Her body settled naturally into the elegant stance of a duelist. “I suppose even after all these years we continue to have our roles in this play. You still wear your mask. How I pity you.”
The Demon Blade fell smoothly into his stance. It was…perfect. “Pity me? Do you think you can defeat me, Princess? Perhaps that Peach Pit brother of yours will come save you with his paintbrushes.” He gave a deep, mocking chuckle. “I slew the God-Beast, armies of Destroyers. I have served as Uruwashii for the Empress and commanded legions. No man has mastered iaijutsu more than I. You cannot defeat me.”
Renshin silently climbed the steps and moved closer to the screen, slowly pushing it open so he could enter the house. If Kaori could buy enough time…
The kenshinzen answered. “No, Shimekiri-san. You have achieved every glory, every possible honor. You have perfected the techniques of iaijutsu. I deny you none of these. But for all of that, you have nothing. I am nobody, yet I am a thousand times richer than you. And so I do pity you.”
The False Crane stopped chuckling and scowled. “Why would you say that?”
“All those honors, yet you still hunger. All your technique, and still the spirit is missing. Nothing can satisfy your endless emptiness. Why else would you be here, now? You seek revenge on even the children that you feel wronged you a lifetime ago. You pour blood and more blood upon the earth to fill your need, but it never satisfies. Do you think slaying artisans and old women will fill the void within you? The blood of gods has failed to do so. Nothing will.”
A nightingale, oblivious to the drama unfolding in the marketplace below, trilled out a joyous burst of song.
Kaori paused to listen. “My glories are this town I have kept in safety and the descendants who remember me," she continued. "My honor is knowing that I have done my duty to my Lord and I can still face my ancestors unashamed. My riches are the taste of the peaches of summer and a warm bed in winter. I have the song of the nightingale and the light of fireflies. I have known love. You can understand none of these, for such things will never be enough to fill your hunger. You will always be a hollow shell. You have become your mask and nothing more, Shimekiri-san. Let us end this farce.”
With an inhuman kiai, Shimekiri leapt at the samurai-ko, and Renshin knew he had to tear his eyes away. This fight was Kaori’s alone. He slipped into house.
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It was dark, but he had always been good at seeing in the darkness. The smell rendered ghastly the familiar trappings of his son’s home. He was prepared to fight, in case the monster had left others to guard his hostages, but there were none. Renshin did not have to look far. A splash of blood spatter across one of the screens directed him into the inner room where the mangled bodies of his beloved son and his daughter-in-law lay heaped in a corner like so much offal. They had died, he was sure, long before Kaori ever received word of Shimekiri’s presence in town. Perhaps they had even invited the traveler in as guest.
Every fiber of his spirit ached, but still he searched through the empty house. There was one other he dreaded finding.
He slid open another screen. It contained a travelling bag and a bundle tossed casually into the corner. As he approached, he could see a hint of movement from the bundle. He darted forward and scooped it up, heart racing. He felt the familiar weight of a little girl who had leaped into his arms a hundred times before, and clutched her tightly to his chest.
"Granddaughter," he whispered. She had been bound and gagged for reasons Renshin dared not fathom. But she was alive.
On silent feet, he carried the girl out of the room, picking his way to the entrance. He froze as the screen opened again and pressed himself tightly against the wall. The Black Crane entered and paused to flick blood from his katana. A single drop hit Renshin’s face but the Fox bushi did not flinch. Shimekiri continued past him without noticing his presence, entering the room where Yoshirou and his wife’s bodies lay. As Renshin slipped through the open door and into the night, he heard muttering. “Perhaps not descendants. Bah! Wretched woman! What difference does it make anyway?”
Renshin fled into the night. He did not stop to look for Kaori. Dead was dead, and the living needed him.
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A burst of white hot pain lashed like a whip through Kakita Toshiki’s chest, and he doubled over with a soft cry.
Then the pain was gone, leaving only lingering raw edges and a sense of loss he did not dare explore. The master painter straightened slowly. Despite the sudden shock, the room remained empty and calm, bright lanterns illuminating the paper in front of him. The summer night was silent save for the occasional song of nightingales that rippled through the darkness.
The older artisan shook his head. “I will seek out an Asahina in the morning.” He gave his current work a critical eye. Half-formed stormclouds curled over an endless, ancient forest, waiting for his touch to bring them to life. He liked painting clouds. However, these were disquieting. It seemed as though they wanted to tell him something, but he had not yet found the brushstroke that would render their message clear. He stared at them for nearly an hour, but they would not reveal their secrets.
His contemplation was disturbed by a sound from the Academy courtyard. Lanterns were lit. He heard the sounds of the bushi heading to the gates, their armor rattling as they walked. There were shouted questions…he heard the words ‘Golden Petal Village’ and 'Double the guards' among the answers. Then, footsteps outside of his room. He put down his brush and turned as the screen was opened.
Standing in his doorway was Kakita Renshin, the Fox samurai who had married his twin sister years before. A drop of blood marred his weathered brown face. His once-red hair had broken free from its topknot and hung wild about his shoulders. In his arms he cradled the body of a sleeping child. Renshin sank to his knees in the middle of the room.
Toshiki pulled shut the screen behind him without a word. He went to the wall and rolled out his own futon for the child. After a thought, he banked the lamps in his room, casting it into a dimness that would preserve the Bushi’s on, his face, no matter what might happen.
Only when all these duties were done did Toshiki kneel before his brother-in-law. “What happened, Oniisan?”
Renshin clutched his granddaughter to him more tightly. “Kaori-chan is dead.”
For Toshiki, the pieces of loss and warning clicked into place like a puzzle, describing the aching void he had felt earlier. But from Renshin’s face, he could see the emptiness was greater, and the child in his arms said there was more to the story. “Yoshirou-kun? Nejin-chan?”
Renshin only nodded.
Toshiki closed his eyes, unable to speak in the face of his brother-in-law’s loss. The silence stretched out between them until he forced the words out, “My heart shatters with grief. What happened?”
Renshin gently brushed his grandaughter’s hair from her face as she slept, unwilling to let her go. “An old enemy. She called him Shimekiri. I believe you know him.”
“I know him.” The painter’s voice was flat with sorrow.
Silence again descended. Finally Renshin filled it. “I…have to go. I cannot stay here. These are your lands. Not my lands. Not without her in them. Without her, there is only the Forest, and it calls to me. You must understand.”
Toshiki nodded blankly. “I…will. Understand. With time. Permit me to bring you things for Kaoko-chan. I…she is still a small child. She must…she needs to be cared for on the journey.”
Renshin stood, face filled with visible grief as he held his granddaughter tightly in his arms. The girl stirred and looked up at him with sleepy blue-gray eyes. “Sofu…Grandfather?” she asked sleepily. “I’m tired. Are we there?”
The bushi gritted his teeth in indecision, then slowly exhaled. “Yes, Kaoko-chan. We are with your Uncle Toshiki-sama. You can sleep.” He carried her to the futon that Toshiki had unrolled and lay her down upon it. He kissed her tenderly once on the forehead. “My blessings and the blessings of Chikushudo on you always.”
He pulled the blankets up about her and turned back towards Toshiki. “I have been in your debt. Long ago, you taught me how to win the hand of a Crane maiden of unparalleled virtue. I, we, have found much joy in it. Though it is over, I cannot regret it. I have nothing to offer you, save that which is now all that is precious in this world to me. “
Toshiki stood. “Renshin-san…My sister was with the one she loved. She was happy. I would have done anything to see her that way.”
“She deserves descendants among her people. Among those who would remember her.’
Toshiki’s heart clenched again at the image of Yoshirou, so proud and earnest, lying murdered in the night. But he had to object again. “You are leaving and will have no one. I at least have grown children and the academy to care for me. You will be alone.”
Renshin wiped the blood from his face with his sleeve and looked at the small red stain sadly. “And now you must accept and I must go. Take care of her. Thank you, my Brother."
The Master Painter trembled with sorrow as he bowed deeply. "We will keep her safe, I swear. Goodbye, my Brother. Be free." He did not straighten until the screen had opened and shut again. The Fox was gone.
Toshiki fell to his knees. He buried his face in his hands and began to weep.
Clouds drew over the moon.
The rain began to fall.
And far away, a howl echoed its grief across the rice fields of Golden Petal Village.
I have known fireflies
at dusk... the nightingale...love.
I will sleep content.
-- Final Haiku of Kakita Kaori, Crane Clan Kenshinzen
Set during the Twenty Festivals period
The starlight called him. Renshin thought for a moment of striding out into the darkness, where the Obsidian moon bathed the cascading branches of the cassia in silvery light. Instead he just smiled at his own foolishness. The trees that lined the neat streets of the Crane village were ancient, but tamed. Each draping branch had been trimmed to show off the golden petals for which the village was famous; the dead twigs and last year's leaves swept away. It was not the deep, dark green wildness of Kitsune Mori. And he was no young man to go chasing the moon on a summer night. The years had grayed his long hair and crisscrossed his sun-browned arms with veins. Decades of smiles left the marks of laughter around his green eyes...though the tears left no such scars. He had been tamed also, years ago, by the one he was truly searching for in the twilight.
The villagers had come just after sunset to speak to his wife. They were fretful of the stranger who had arrived in town, but seemed reluctant to say why. Renshin's wife had served this village as sonchou and chief magistrate for the last twenty years, in addition to her duties as sensei at the nearby Academy. It was a position of honor and one she had much desired. The village had been under her family's keeping for generations before the great Clan Wars had shattered the Crane Lands. It was usually a quiet role. Villages in the area frequently received strangers seeking refuge before presenting themselves at Kuyden Kakita or at the Academy. There seemed no reason for alarm.
Still, Kaori of course slid her blades into her obi and agreed to go. It was in her nature.
The moon had not risen much higher in the sky before running footsteps ended any thoughts of wild hunts through the twilight forest. A samurai-ko darted up the path to the shoji to meet him. In his eyes, she still moved like a graceful doe despite her years, but it was not the joy of the chase that he sensed now. She stopped short of him, straightened, and stilled her breaths before approaching him. As she climbed the steps onto the nure-en, she held up two fingers. He reached out to her, touching her fingertips with his own, their own special embrace. "Beloved...?"
His wife pressed a small scroll of ricepaper into his hand. "I need all your stealth and swiftness tonight, Anata. An old student of my father has challenged me. He has our son. You need to rescue Yoshirou and his family and take them to the Academy."
He didn't question, but drew her over the threshold to continue her explanation while he reached for his katana. "They are at home?"
"I do not know, but I am to go not far from there. This man....is not honorable. He will kill them if he lives to see the dawn. Yoshirou-kun is a good magistrate, but he is not Kenshinzen."
She seemed weary. When he turned to look at his wife, he saw the pain of old wounds and old sorrows etched into the lines of her face. He felt a stab of fear. "The challenger is Kenshinzen also? Omae, you are not as young as you were...Who is this man?"
Kaori’s voice was cold. "No. He was never Kenshinzen. He is a monster. He is Shimekiri."
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Yoshirou’s house was on the edge of the village, providing the young magistrate the best view of the Western approach. The road stretched to the northwest, and Renshin could see the silhouettes of trees whose deep roots braced the mud walls of the rice fields to either side. The moon glistened on the water. It left him precious few shadows in which to hide, but he pressed himself close to the ground and eased around the corner.
The open marketplace was empty of stalls, but lit by two bright lanterns. The lanterns served his purpose, casting the areas outside their light into deeper shadow and allowing him to draw nearer to the entrance of the home. The house was dark, and when Renshin pressed his ear to the wall, he could hear nothing from within. Once he knew where this Mad Crane was, he would slip in and find any trace of his son, Yoshirou’s wife Nejin, and their young daughter.
He did not have to wait long.
Renshin heard the brush of footsteps on the far side of the open space, and from his hiding place he could see his wife step boldly into the light of the first lantern. Her braided hair reflected the lantern’s light, and the blue silks she wore shimmered. In many ways, she looked much as she had when he first glimpsed her marching with the Fox Clan troops through Kitsune Mori. Her voice rang clearly through the empty marketplace.
“You wanted my attention? Here I am. Let your hostages go and we will settle things.”
Renshin could hear now the sound of footsteps and a hand on the shoji. He pressed himself even closer to the earth under the wooden nure-en. The front steps rose above him. The screen slid open and a man emerged from the darkened house. He was wrapped in a dingy white cloak. The hakama that passed near enough to touch were black. Long white hair streamed over his shoulders, brushing the magnificent daisho that hung at his hip. He smelled of blood. He smelled of death.
The older bushi waited silently as the man sauntered toward the pool of light provided by the second lantern. When he reached it, Renshin he could see the man's face was painted with white and blue. Kabuki, he had learned it was called when he first arrived in Crane lands, though Renshin thought little of the artform. This must be the one they called The Black Kabuki. The Demon Blade of the Shadowlands. Shimekiri.
"We meet again, Princess. I fear I cannot bring my guests out; I am sure they will be found soon enough.”
His wife’s face showed no flicker of emotion at the words. “I see.” Her body settled naturally into the elegant stance of a duelist. “I suppose even after all these years we continue to have our roles in this play. You still wear your mask. How I pity you.”
The Demon Blade fell smoothly into his stance. It was…perfect. “Pity me? Do you think you can defeat me, Princess? Perhaps that Peach Pit brother of yours will come save you with his paintbrushes.” He gave a deep, mocking chuckle. “I slew the God-Beast, armies of Destroyers. I have served as Uruwashii for the Empress and commanded legions. No man has mastered iaijutsu more than I. You cannot defeat me.”
Renshin silently climbed the steps and moved closer to the screen, slowly pushing it open so he could enter the house. If Kaori could buy enough time…
The kenshinzen answered. “No, Shimekiri-san. You have achieved every glory, every possible honor. You have perfected the techniques of iaijutsu. I deny you none of these. But for all of that, you have nothing. I am nobody, yet I am a thousand times richer than you. And so I do pity you.”
The False Crane stopped chuckling and scowled. “Why would you say that?”
“All those honors, yet you still hunger. All your technique, and still the spirit is missing. Nothing can satisfy your endless emptiness. Why else would you be here, now? You seek revenge on even the children that you feel wronged you a lifetime ago. You pour blood and more blood upon the earth to fill your need, but it never satisfies. Do you think slaying artisans and old women will fill the void within you? The blood of gods has failed to do so. Nothing will.”
A nightingale, oblivious to the drama unfolding in the marketplace below, trilled out a joyous burst of song.
Kaori paused to listen. “My glories are this town I have kept in safety and the descendants who remember me," she continued. "My honor is knowing that I have done my duty to my Lord and I can still face my ancestors unashamed. My riches are the taste of the peaches of summer and a warm bed in winter. I have the song of the nightingale and the light of fireflies. I have known love. You can understand none of these, for such things will never be enough to fill your hunger. You will always be a hollow shell. You have become your mask and nothing more, Shimekiri-san. Let us end this farce.”
With an inhuman kiai, Shimekiri leapt at the samurai-ko, and Renshin knew he had to tear his eyes away. This fight was Kaori’s alone. He slipped into house.
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It was dark, but he had always been good at seeing in the darkness. The smell rendered ghastly the familiar trappings of his son’s home. He was prepared to fight, in case the monster had left others to guard his hostages, but there were none. Renshin did not have to look far. A splash of blood spatter across one of the screens directed him into the inner room where the mangled bodies of his beloved son and his daughter-in-law lay heaped in a corner like so much offal. They had died, he was sure, long before Kaori ever received word of Shimekiri’s presence in town. Perhaps they had even invited the traveler in as guest.
Every fiber of his spirit ached, but still he searched through the empty house. There was one other he dreaded finding.
He slid open another screen. It contained a travelling bag and a bundle tossed casually into the corner. As he approached, he could see a hint of movement from the bundle. He darted forward and scooped it up, heart racing. He felt the familiar weight of a little girl who had leaped into his arms a hundred times before, and clutched her tightly to his chest.
"Granddaughter," he whispered. She had been bound and gagged for reasons Renshin dared not fathom. But she was alive.
On silent feet, he carried the girl out of the room, picking his way to the entrance. He froze as the screen opened again and pressed himself tightly against the wall. The Black Crane entered and paused to flick blood from his katana. A single drop hit Renshin’s face but the Fox bushi did not flinch. Shimekiri continued past him without noticing his presence, entering the room where Yoshirou and his wife’s bodies lay. As Renshin slipped through the open door and into the night, he heard muttering. “Perhaps not descendants. Bah! Wretched woman! What difference does it make anyway?”
Renshin fled into the night. He did not stop to look for Kaori. Dead was dead, and the living needed him.
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A burst of white hot pain lashed like a whip through Kakita Toshiki’s chest, and he doubled over with a soft cry.
Then the pain was gone, leaving only lingering raw edges and a sense of loss he did not dare explore. The master painter straightened slowly. Despite the sudden shock, the room remained empty and calm, bright lanterns illuminating the paper in front of him. The summer night was silent save for the occasional song of nightingales that rippled through the darkness.
The older artisan shook his head. “I will seek out an Asahina in the morning.” He gave his current work a critical eye. Half-formed stormclouds curled over an endless, ancient forest, waiting for his touch to bring them to life. He liked painting clouds. However, these were disquieting. It seemed as though they wanted to tell him something, but he had not yet found the brushstroke that would render their message clear. He stared at them for nearly an hour, but they would not reveal their secrets.
His contemplation was disturbed by a sound from the Academy courtyard. Lanterns were lit. He heard the sounds of the bushi heading to the gates, their armor rattling as they walked. There were shouted questions…he heard the words ‘Golden Petal Village’ and 'Double the guards' among the answers. Then, footsteps outside of his room. He put down his brush and turned as the screen was opened.
Standing in his doorway was Kakita Renshin, the Fox samurai who had married his twin sister years before. A drop of blood marred his weathered brown face. His once-red hair had broken free from its topknot and hung wild about his shoulders. In his arms he cradled the body of a sleeping child. Renshin sank to his knees in the middle of the room.
Toshiki pulled shut the screen behind him without a word. He went to the wall and rolled out his own futon for the child. After a thought, he banked the lamps in his room, casting it into a dimness that would preserve the Bushi’s on, his face, no matter what might happen.
Only when all these duties were done did Toshiki kneel before his brother-in-law. “What happened, Oniisan?”
Renshin clutched his granddaughter to him more tightly. “Kaori-chan is dead.”
For Toshiki, the pieces of loss and warning clicked into place like a puzzle, describing the aching void he had felt earlier. But from Renshin’s face, he could see the emptiness was greater, and the child in his arms said there was more to the story. “Yoshirou-kun? Nejin-chan?”
Renshin only nodded.
Toshiki closed his eyes, unable to speak in the face of his brother-in-law’s loss. The silence stretched out between them until he forced the words out, “My heart shatters with grief. What happened?”
Renshin gently brushed his grandaughter’s hair from her face as she slept, unwilling to let her go. “An old enemy. She called him Shimekiri. I believe you know him.”
“I know him.” The painter’s voice was flat with sorrow.
Silence again descended. Finally Renshin filled it. “I…have to go. I cannot stay here. These are your lands. Not my lands. Not without her in them. Without her, there is only the Forest, and it calls to me. You must understand.”
Toshiki nodded blankly. “I…will. Understand. With time. Permit me to bring you things for Kaoko-chan. I…she is still a small child. She must…she needs to be cared for on the journey.”
Renshin stood, face filled with visible grief as he held his granddaughter tightly in his arms. The girl stirred and looked up at him with sleepy blue-gray eyes. “Sofu…Grandfather?” she asked sleepily. “I’m tired. Are we there?”
The bushi gritted his teeth in indecision, then slowly exhaled. “Yes, Kaoko-chan. We are with your Uncle Toshiki-sama. You can sleep.” He carried her to the futon that Toshiki had unrolled and lay her down upon it. He kissed her tenderly once on the forehead. “My blessings and the blessings of Chikushudo on you always.”
He pulled the blankets up about her and turned back towards Toshiki. “I have been in your debt. Long ago, you taught me how to win the hand of a Crane maiden of unparalleled virtue. I, we, have found much joy in it. Though it is over, I cannot regret it. I have nothing to offer you, save that which is now all that is precious in this world to me. “
Toshiki stood. “Renshin-san…My sister was with the one she loved. She was happy. I would have done anything to see her that way.”
“She deserves descendants among her people. Among those who would remember her.’
Toshiki’s heart clenched again at the image of Yoshirou, so proud and earnest, lying murdered in the night. But he had to object again. “You are leaving and will have no one. I at least have grown children and the academy to care for me. You will be alone.”
Renshin wiped the blood from his face with his sleeve and looked at the small red stain sadly. “And now you must accept and I must go. Take care of her. Thank you, my Brother."
The Master Painter trembled with sorrow as he bowed deeply. "We will keep her safe, I swear. Goodbye, my Brother. Be free." He did not straighten until the screen had opened and shut again. The Fox was gone.
Toshiki fell to his knees. He buried his face in his hands and began to weep.
Clouds drew over the moon.
The rain began to fall.
And far away, a howl echoed its grief across the rice fields of Golden Petal Village.
I have known fireflies
at dusk... the nightingale...love.
I will sleep content.
-- Final Haiku of Kakita Kaori, Crane Clan Kenshinzen