Reclaimed – Chapter 10

We travel North from Rittō around the foothills of Zenyama, a high mountain with snow on its peak. Zenyama is a favored mountain, much loved by the locals who make trips to its summit every year in order to bring long life and prosperity to their families. Along a tributary to the river that bisects the continent, Julia finds a stretch of meadow close to a water source with plenty of space for the horses and our entire caravan.

While everyone else is erecting the tents, I lounge on a mat on the grass, stretch my legs, my hips, and close my eyes in the sun before Arata approaches me with his archery kit. I jump to my feet and rub my hands together, ready for my first lesson.

“Here we go, Sanaa. This is for you. This is a traditional bow, and one I use for zen kyūdō practice, but it is not my main bow. You’ll notice the grip is off-center and lower.” Arata hands me the bow, and it’s taller than I am, long and springy. “I’m going to set up a target and we’ll start practicing.” Arata takes wide steps forward into the field, counting as he goes, the folded up bullseye under his arm, marking out a distance of ninety-one meters.

I roll up my mat and set it aside as Kentaro arrives to gawk. He stands next to me, his arms crossed over his chest. “Is there any weapon you won’t try?”

The bow is light in my hands, and when I rest the bottom tip on the ground, the length bends easily. “No. I can’t think of any. I’m determined to get good at one of them, at least.”

Kentaro rolls his eyes. “You’re already good with the sword and jō.”

“That’s not true. I’m passable. Barely.”

“You beat me almost every time in the dōjō.”

“Because you go easy on me.”

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Children! Stop bickering!” Sakai calls out from behind us. “Sanaa, if you weren’t good with the sword, I would have drilled you myself until you were skilled enough to carry Kazenoho. You well surpassed your mark when we were in Nishikyō.”

I sigh and turn back towards Arata. He has picked a spot for me to aim at and searches the ground for rocks to hold the target in place.

“What’s with you lately?” Kentaro asks. “You’re so… humble. It’s strange. Don’t you want to kick my butt or tell me I’m being an asshole or something?”

“My priorities have shifted, and you are being an asshole right now. I’m no different than I was last week or a month ago.”

“Bullshit. You’re quiet and sad and…”

I stab the bow’s end into the ground. “I’m mourning the only thing I ever wanted that’s now gone. It’s not something I’m going to get over in a few week’s time.” I put my hand on his chest and push but keep my face turned away. “Go away. Come back when you can stop being an insensitive jerk.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, shuffling off. “Sorry.” Out of the corner of my eye, Jiro glares at Kentaro as he passes, heading to help set up the tents.

Arata is back at my side, quietly observing the crowd behind me. I do my best to pretend no one is there.

“Watch me,” Arata instructs, taking the bow from my hands and grabbing an arrow from a pile at our feet. “Left hand on the grip. Right hand clutches the arrow in the bowstring. Arrow rests on the right side of the bowstring, on the outside.” He holds the bow and arrow at arm’s length in front of him, the target off in the distance to his left side. “Bring the bow up high, making sure you have torque on the bow and the arrow, pull back and bring down to eye level at the same time.” He aims out along the length of the arrow, holding for just a moment before releasing. In a blink, the arrow lands on the target.

“Shin-zen-bi. Truth, goodness, beauty. It’s not about how you aim or how strong you are. If you keep the three foci of truth, goodness, and beauty, in your mind and heart, you will always hit the target.”

“Shin-zen-bi,” I repeat, under my breath. Truth, goodness, beauty. Gods, I have none of those. I lied to Jiro and didn’t confide in him when I was too sick to eat. I was selfish and got Hiro’s parents killed — definitely not goodness. And beauty? I would never call myself or my actions beautiful, not in a million years.

“I can feel your skepticism,” Arata says, laughing and handing me a shooting glove. “Here. I’ll help you put it on.” While he wraps my hand in the long straps of the two finger and thumb glove, he repeats, “Shin. Zen. Bi. The strength in drawing the bow comes from starting high and opening your arms. Think of the truth of the arrow finding its target, a straight line. Every shot you make comes closer to the truth. Goodness is not an act of kindness, but more a way of peace. And you will find, with time, beauty in the way the bow bends, the arrow flies, and the greatness and honor of the ritual.”

“Like kata.” Jiro sits cross-legged on the ground behind us, studying this lesson as well, picking pieces of long grass and twirling them between his fingers.

Arata and I nod together. This is similar to the way of iaido.

“Okay. Your turn.”

The bow is light in my hands despite how large it is. I wonder what it’s made out of? I grasp the grip in my left hand and thread the arrow with my right.

“Let the arrow rest alongside the top of your left hand on the grip,” Arata instructs, pushing the arrow into place. I hold it at arm’s length in front of me, high in the air, over my head, then draw the bowstring down to eye level. My arm shakes, I lose torque, and the arrow flies way off to the left of the target. Arata watches it soar away.

“Jiro, I’m going to need you to help me find these arrows later.” He laughs good-naturedly but I cringe. I’m horrible with weapons other than the katana and jō. The only reason I did well with the jō is because it’s so sword-like. “You’ll want to work on triceps, biceps, and shoulder strength. Try again.”

I shoot, and I use the word shoot loosely, five more arrows into the ether before my right arm trembles so much I can’t possibly draw the bow again. My eyes water under the strain. I’m tired, recovering from blood loss, and hungry. Kagemusha, tied to a tree behind me neighs in my direction before huffing and stomping his foot. Kumo barks at him.

“I know, I know!” I turn to my horse and throw my arms up. “I’m bad, really bad. This is hopeless.”

He shakes his head, as if to say, “Did you really think you’d be good on the first try?”

“No. I did not expect to be good on the first try,” I say, sitting down while Jiro runs out to retrieve my arrows. “I was just as bad at the sword on my first try. You should have seen me try to fight with Jiro on my first day.” I laugh and pick at the grass. “It was embarrassing.”

Kagemusha sighs. I stretch my legs out in front of me and look up at the audience I’ve gathered. Julia, Kentaro, Kazuo, and Usagi are all turned towards me.

“Are you talking to your horse?” Julia asks, her hands on her hips.

I roll my eyes and lie back in the grass to stare at the sky. Who else did she think I was talking to?

—-

After dinner by the fire, we inflate our mattress in our tent. The bed starts as a small ten centimeter square cube and blows up via a solar battery pack we charged all day while riding horseback. The weather still gets cold at night so I change into Nishikyō grays, a sweater, and thick socks while Jiro folds out a thin, double sleeping bag. We sink into our bed together and turn down the light.

“This is much better than sleeping on grass.” A yawn bubbles up from deep within my lungs but leaves me shivering against Jiro’s side. Kumo whimpers and nudges at my backside from the ground. “I’m fine, Kumo.” I roll over so I can face him and push my butt up against Jiro who sighs and wraps himself around me. Kumo’s fur is silky between my fingers. He closes his eyes and rests his head on the bed.

“I know you want to sleep with us, sweet puppy. But I think your claws would be the end of my bed.”

His long pink tongue darts out and licks my face. Dog kisses are disgusting, but I’m getting used to them.

“Do you miss Momo?” Jiro asks, breathing warm air onto my neck before his lips are there.

“Yes. So much. My first pet.” I throw my arm around Kumo’s neck. “But she has her own family now, too. I’m sure some of her babies will stick around. They were getting big, no?”

“Yeah. Kittens grow so fast. I had no idea.”

I kiss Kumo on the side of his muzzle and roll back to Jiro, pushing my short hair out of the way.

“Is it weird, do you think, that I already have this connection with animals? Without a chip?” Propping myself on my elbows, I gauge Jiro’s reaction. I remember when I couldn’t read him. He was as impenetrable as Sakai, a face like stone, eyes silent, and mouth a locked door. That was before he let me in. He’s relaxed around me now. I give him permission to show emotion, something he never had before me.

Jiro closes his eyes and his hesitation unnerves me.

“Weird?” Jiro asks, his eyes reopening and sweeping over my face. In the light of the glow lamp hung above us, a bug buzzes around and distracts me. “I honestly don’t know what’s normal anymore. Does it matter what I think?”

“Of course, it matters. It always matters to me what you think. I’m feeling self-conscious about it. I could not talk to my friends… my animals… but it’s like ignoring them. I know what it’s like to be ignored.”

“Wait.” Jiro sits up in the bed and the whole mattress rolls to the side, tipping me towards the ground. I snap my hand out to stop from falling out of the bed and scare Kumo who jumps up and barks.

“Shhh, Kumo. You’ll wake everyone. Stop.”

He circles his spot three times before settling down.

“Sorry,” Jiro whispers. “I forgot the bed was made of air.” He lies down and pulls me to him. “Look at what just happened. You can’t stop talking to animals, and they can’t stop talking to you. It’s more natural than sword fighting for you. Don’t stop just because people look at you like you’re crazy.”

“That seems like a damned good reason to stop. I have an image to keep up.”

“Trust me. I knew the day I took you to the pond at Shōfū-an, there was something special and different about you. I watched the way those fish came to you. It was like you put a spell on them. I played in that pond for years with Ken growing up, and those fish were terrified of us. I never saw them except when they were swimming away.”

My encounter with the fish was my second experience with animals. Their attention made my heart soar, just like petting every pig, llama, and sheep in the Ku 8 zoo filled me to completion. The night after I was there I laid in bed and dreamt of warm furry bodies, wagging tails, and a constant companion. That was something I needed even then, before my life flipped upside down.

“What are you thinking about?” Jiro kisses my forehead and squeezes me.

I hesitate for a minute, resting my head against Jiro. “Companionship and loneliness. How I’ve longed for one but always got the other.”

“You have me,” he says, squeezing me tight.

“I know. How is it that I suddenly had staff members, a new family, a new job, and I was more alone than I have ever been in my life? Until a year and a half ago, I had no parents, just my aunts, no brothers or sisters, no cousins, and no grandparents. All I had were two friends and an interesting job. I’ll admit I was happy enough. I had freedom to be out with people and never felt too alone.”

Jiro’s eyes swim, drowned in water, and he looks away.

“Yūsei has been hard.” I soften my voice and stroke my cheek across his chest. “But I have felt more whole here than at any other time in my life. The birds in the trees, rabbits in the garden, a cat and dog by my side, horses… I don’t know. They complete me and it means a lot to me that they love you too.”

I slink my leg over his body and lie directly on top of him, his heat warming me up. The bed squishes down beneath us.

“I want to get pregnant again after all this is over. Knowing I was carrying a baby was the best feeling in the world. I only wish it had lasted. You still want a family, right?”

Jiro’s chest freezes beneath me. “Yes. Yes, I do. Every day I thank the gods you chose to only have one consort, that you accepted the ring and drank from the cups with me. You didn’t have to. and I wouldn’t have blamed you if you chose someone else. I expected you to choose someone else. I’m really lucky.”

“I honestly think I’d go insane trying to handle more than one man. You’re enough work as it is.” I keep my face straight, though I am howling with laughter inside.

His chest shakes with silent chuckles. “Am I now? Hard on ya?”

“You don’t listen to orders. You sit around all day. Really, Jiro. You should try harder to do your job.”

“What job is that?”

“Look here, consort, the only job you have is attending to me.”

He slides his body out from under mine, and I narrow my eyes at him in mock fury.

“Command me, Sanaa,” he whispers, leaning over me. A rolling tide of goosebumps starts on my scalp and washes down my body. He said the same thing after we had sex the very first time, and I knew then what I know now, that I can ask anything from him and he’d do it. I grab my pants and underwear and inch them down. He raises his eyebrows at me. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, please. I’m more than ready. Payback for the other night in the bathhouse.” I take his free hand and guide it down my body to between my legs.

I want to return to the new normal, the one where I spend time with those who matter to me, work towards a life that’s better for everyone, and still have these moments with Jiro where I can let go and just be me, unguarded and uninhibited.

Intertwining my body with his, he kisses down my neck to my collarbone, pulling me close with one arm and expertly stroking his fingers until I start to shake. The moans I want to release when I orgasm for the first time in a month expire on my lips, released in a silence so complete, I think the frogs outside stopped croaking to give me peace.