Reclaimed – Chapter 30

I don’t see anyone else but Jiro, Cathy, and Sono for the rest of the day. Cathy pumps three bags of saline into me, and I’m glad the bathroom is right next door. Sono brings me snacks in the afternoon, kisses the top of my head, and lays his strong hand on my shoulder.

“It’s good to see you, Sanaa. I was worried after the fire and when you didn’t show up for Oyama’s funeral.”

My tears are all dried up. “I tried to come. Miko told me I wasn’t welcome. You’re not angry with me?”

He blinks in surprise. “No. No. None of this is your fault. Just eat. I’ll do my best to watch over your food like Oyama did.”

Though I like the alone time and the ability to rehydrate and recover, I’m worried about everything. What’s going on in Yamato? How are the city repairs going? Where is Kazuo? Why hasn’t he checked in yet? What about Julia? Has she found Clan Taira and Maeda? I’m worried about Miura’s daughters, Naomi and Yuka, now that they’re missing. Are they being held captive? Do they know their mother is dead?

Cathy comes to take out my IV before bed, I take a long hot shower but lie in bed staring at the ceiling while Jiro sleeps for hours until the clock on the bed stand reads past one in the morning. I sit up and rub my face, jostling a cat on my feet.

“Why are you awake?” she asks, stretching on her back, her paws pointed in four different directions.

“Shhh.” I try to shush her with my finger to her lips, but she bites me. “Ow! Why did you do that?”

“I thought you wanted to play. Sorry.”

“What’s going on?” Jiro sits up in bed, yawning, and running his fingers through his hair.

“I can’t sleep. I just keep thinking of all the stuff I should be doing.”

He turns and checks the clock, rubbing his eyes. “Want to do something to pass the time? We could have sex. It’s been a while.” Jiro smiles, raising his eyebrows at me, and I huff a laugh.

“Considering I’ve been hooked up to an IV all day, I’m going to have to decline.”

“Damn,” he says, snapping his fingers. “I have a small amount of cake left. I could roll up a cigarette?”

“I don’t know. I spent so many days and nights on cake. And then I read those stories about the old Chinese empresses who smoked opium…”

“When did you read those?”

“Those mornings I rested after the miscarriage.”

Jiro groans and falls back. “Why do you do that to yourself?”

I pluck at the bedsheet and reach out to pet a cat. “Forget it. Roll one up and let’s go outside.”

I throw the covers off and pick up the small knit blanket at the foot of the bed, wrapping the soft fabric around my shoulders. We exit our room and lean on the railing outside along the length of the building. Jiro waves to the guards at the two ends before sprinkling cake into a paper, rolling it up, and lighting the end. He inhales and passes to me.

It’s been a while since I last smoked, and I remember for a brief moment how sick I was when I was pregnant. Pregnancy is a lifetime ago, a completely different person. Not the Sanaa I am now. It’s hard to remember the person I was, much less the person I am now. I suck the smoke into my mouth first, let it cool, then draw it into my lungs slowly, leaning my head on Jiro’s shoulder.

“Mmmm, I forgot how good this smells. I’m sorry I’m so crazy with my doubts and stupid ideas…”

“No worries. I can understand, even if I can’t agree. And it wasn’t until recently, until everyone turned on us, that I realized all you go through.” He sighs and flicks the cigarette, tapping out the ash. “I’m a stupid boy sometimes too — only thinking of myself.”

I thread my arm through his and lean into him. He’s solid and warm, and I’m struck by the fact that if he were gone, if he died tomorrow, I would have no one. I always knew I would lead a lonely life, what with no family but my aunts and very few friends. I never thought my life would be me and my husband and no one else.

Well, not no one else. Kumo pushes the door open with his nose, sits down next to me, and leans his warm body on mine. I reach down and scratch the top of his head.

The cake hits my bloodstream fast, blanking my mind and leaving me empty — not bad empty but good empty. Empty of the fearful and anxious thoughts of my future, my brain slows down. My thoughts are no longer running at lightning speed, contemplating every possible outcome of every decision I make for the next several years.

The two moons hang in the sky, bathing the long grass in silver. A breeze rustles the Nogusa-hara, and the filaments sway in its wake. The prairie is alive with lightning bugs and the song of crickets.

“Look way out there,” I say, pointing towards the hill in the distance. Even from here, I can see the pride of lions and jagupards, lying in a circle, either on each other or alone. “What do you think of the big cats?”

Jiro shrugs his shoulders. “What is there to think? Why do you ask?”

“I wonder…” I drag on the cigarette again and fold my arms on the railing, resting my chin on them and squinting my eyes into the moonlight. “I wonder why they’re here. What would be the point of introducing such big predators into an ecosystem when they could easily kill a man or woman?”

“I don’t know.” He hums and bobs his head back and forth, a gesture I’m so familiar with now, I smile. “I never thought about how we’re the biggest predators here. We’ve run into deer and Oda was saying there are other larger animals out on the prairie, but remember there are bears in town.”

“Right, right. But bears have paired with humans, no?”

“So you’re saying they’re not as much of a threat? And the cats of the Nogusa-hara have never paired with humans.”

“There’s got to be a reason why.” My fingers twitch over the cake cigarette in my hand, cold and dead. “Sorry. I let the cigarette die.”

“No worries,” he says again, smiling, and taking the cigarette from me, he slips it into a small bag he has just for cake. “I don’t want anymore. I only keep this around for you.” I grimace at my own weakness. “And it’s fine to need it. You’re not in the dōjō every day working off your frustrations. We’re not regularly having sex because of the pregnancy, miscarriage, and everything else going on.”

He leans in and softly lays his lips on my cheek, my jaw, and then the spot under my ear. My breathing catches, and I hold very still, relishing Jiro’s scent, his scratchy face, and warm arms as they pull me to him. His lips flutter along my ear.

“You don’t drink anymore either, which used to be a great way for us to have fun and blow off steam.”

I shake my head into his shoulder. “I do miss it, but it’s so hard to stay alert if I’m drinking.”

He pulls his face back from mine. The world around me pulses, my brain slowing even further, and I take a long, leisurely moment to drink him in. His hair is getting long again, the white streak buried under a curtain of dark black locks. I snake my hand out from between us and the blanket to stroke the side of his face before rubbing my thumb across his bottom lip.

These moments are sparse. Between running for my life, politics, and negotiations, quiet time with Jiro is fleeting. I love how his face has changed in the last year. He went from boyish handsome, cocky and sure, to rugged handsome, strong cheekbones always with a shadow of a beard. We’ve aged so much since Nishikyō between the hibernation and everything we’ve been through here. I run the tips of my fingers up across the stubble on his cheek and close my eyes.

“I’m a really unlucky and doomed woman, but at least I have you. I don’t know what I did to deserve you. Nothing as far as I’m concerned…”

He squeezes me. “We’re both undeserving people. Made for each other.”

He’s right about that.