Reclaimed – Chapter 36

The sun dips low on the western horizon coloring the sky orange and lengthening our shadows on the grass. We break at another clearing and the lions leave us without so much as a growl or sidelong glance. We were all fatigued, but Namika kept pushing us to get to this particular location. I set my bag down beside a ring of stones around a blackened fire pit. This area is covered in sand and another thresher sits in the corner next to a pile with a tarp over it.

“Ahhh,” Namika says, smiling and dumping her bag next to mine, “the campsite looks good. I haven’t been here in years.”

I open my bag, and Himitsu wakes, yawning and fluffing his feathers out into a ball. My heart melts. He’s so adorable.

“Are we there yet?” he asks, his round yellow eyes blinking asynchronously, and I laugh.

“You sound like a three-year-old kid. We’ve stopped for the night at a campsite.” I scoop him into my hand and squish him up against my cheek, feeling his heart beat rapidly under my fingers. I inspect his wings and feathery body to make sure he’s healthy and fit before snuggling him again. He nibbles on my ear, tiny little love bites. My favorite.

“I’ll go get dinner and scout around? If we’re camping here, I’ll check for predators?”

I hold him out in my hands, and he takes off, circling our campsite twice before heading south towards the mountains and forest. Kentaro watches him go with a smile before coming over to me.

“Himitsu’s working out for you?” he asks, dropping his backpack and squatting next to it.

“Yeah.” I sigh, focusing far off in the distance at the little speck of owl. “I just love him so much.” I smile and blush, head over heels in love with a tiny feathery creature.

Kentaro nods his head and smiles, pulling his tent from his bag. “I thought he was perfect for you. I was standing in a café, and he kept following me everywhere I went, his little eyes watching my every move. I swore he even smiled at me. Namika said I was crazy.” He glances at Namika, yanking the tarp off a pile of firewood. She drops the tarp on the ground and mice scatter around her feet. She kicks the pile a few times to scare off anyone else living in there.

“I have a gift for you, Kentaro. A thank you for bringing me Himi.” I snake my arm way down in my bag, grasping for the cool, solid tube and pulling it back up. I hand over my shinobijō to him. “Here. I want you to have this, for our battle ahead.”

“Sanaa, I can’t take your weapon.”

I wave my hand at him and smirk. “You know I’m shit at the jō. I’ll have my sword. It’s all I need.”

He twirls it in his fingers, and I remember when Jiro gave it to me in the dōjō, my first ever training session with Kentaro. He was kind to me, even though he hated me then, and he kept things business when he didn’t have to. I still admire him for the way he adapted during those circumstances.

“I remember the day you got this.”

I laugh and kneel down beside him. “I was thinking the same thing. Remember how it works?”

“Yeah.” He runs his fingers along the length of the two collapsed segments. “I can’t wait to try out the electric weapon on someone.” His eyebrows raise up before he winks at me.

An echoing lion roar silences our chatty group and induces a wave of cold goosebumps along my back. We freeze and turn. Here in the eastern wastelands of the Nogusa-hara, the plain of grass is slowly giving way to the desert sands of the Kōbuchi. The grass thinned with each kilometer we walked today, and more scrub brush and short trees are visible on the horizon heading into the desert.

“What do you think they’re doing?” I whisper.

Arata’s face grows into a wide smile. “Hunting. Deer and antelope come to the plains in the late spring early summer to find more food for their young. They’re not very smart.”

Arata digs in his bag, pulling out clothing and a few water bottles before finding a small pair of binoculars.

“Here, Sanaa.” He waves Jiro over, I sling my leg over Jiro’s neck, and he lifts me up into the air on his shoulders so quickly I almost fall off.

“Oops,” he says, lifting his hand up where I can grab it. “You’re so light, my love,” he whispers up at me.

“I know.” I pinch my lips together but press the binoculars to my eyes.

The lion hunt unfolds about a kilometer in the distance. A herd of deer bounds through the tall grass, dodging left and right, forwards and backwards. I wonder why they don’t retreat to the forest and mountains where they came from but then Arata did say they’re not very smart.

One of the lionesses in the pride stalks a younger deer, her body hunched down and tail twitching. She bolts from the grass so fast, she’s nothing but a blur to me. The deer runs but skids in a patch of sand, too disoriented now to get up swiftly enough and save herself. The lion lunges straight for the deer’s throat and I squeeze my eyes closed, unable to bring myself to watch the carnage.

I let the binoculars sit on my waist in my hand while I follow the scene without them. Even from here, I can see Shishi on a short rise in the distance, watching over his pride. Two deer were brought down and another lion is hunting a mother and baby deer. Shishi roars again and trots over to his dinner. Well, at least it wasn’t us.

“They got two deer and possibly more,” I say, handing the binoculars to Arata. Jiro drops to one knee, and I climb down off of him. He grips me around my waist, and smiles down at me, the waning sun catching dust motes around his eyes and scruffy chin. A surge of pride and love wells up in my chest with the way he looks at me — not like I’m his boss, his empress, or someone to despise. I’m the person he loves most on this godsforsaken planet. I close my eyes and rest my forehead against his chin.

“Do you remember,” he asks, taking my cheeks in his hands as Arata backs away from us, “the first time you ever went outside?” He laughs and kisses me hard on my cheek. “I’ll never forget that. I was already way into you then, and you had no idea. Seeing you hit the ground like that, so vulnerable, I wanted to scoop you up and hold you.” He drops his hands but pulls me to him, close, wrapped in his arms. “These past few months have been so hard. I can’t protect you, and I want to so badly, it kills me.”

I rub my face into his chest and think about how long it’s been since we pressed our skin together. “I love you,” I say, lifting my head. “I’m sorry I never say it out loud. I’m a horrible person, gambling away our children, our lives, and never telling you I love you for everything. I’m so sorry.”

He shakes his head and wipes a tear from my cheek. “You don’t have to tell me when it’s as clear as day on your face, in your smile, in everything you do.”

I crack a tiny smile. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Same here.”

I close my eyes for a minute, tuning out the world around me, the sun winking away, our fellow travelers setting up tents and building a fire, the cool evening wicking away the heat of the desert.

Jiro presses his lips to my ear. “You’ve given up more for me than I have ever given up for you. When we return to Yamato, we’ll set up our own house in the woods away from everyone else and live our lives as best we can.”

I stay silent. I want to believe that dream waits for us on the other side of this mess.

The last hint of daylight fades as the moons rise in the sky, ghostly white, the major moon half full, the minor moon a quarter crescent. The campfire roars, crackling and licking the starry sky. Kentaro and Namika sit apart, unwilling to show affection for each other in public, which breaks my heart. I remember Kentaro and Kevin alone together in Sakai building and how sweet they were. They couldn’t be close in the open because of Kentaro’s father, but Kentaro doesn’t have those restrictions here.

I walk up to him, seated cross-legged in front of the fire, and kick him in the butt.

“Hey! What?” He looks up at me, holding a potato in one hand, a peeler in the other and a mound of peelings between his legs. I squat down beside him.

“You have nothing to fear from showing her a little attention,” I whisper in his ear.

He humphs and returns to potato peeling. “She doesn’t want it.”

I take the potato and peeler from his hands. “She does. She’s just not used to it. It scares her. But it would scare her even more if you gave up so easily.” He stares into the fire for a long moment before I bump him on the shoulder. “Trust me. It’s worth the chase. It always is.”

I sit and ignore him as he rises and makes his way to the other side of the campfire to talk to Namika. Peeling the potato, I hum and smile, watching Jiro spear rabbit meat and chicken we brought with us onto long skewers with Sakai. The two work together side-by-side, uncle and nephew, and now that they’re both growing beards and their hair is long and free, they’re even more alike. I blush and get back to the potato. I’m surrounded by handsome men.

“Sanaa, will you bring those potatoes here?” Arata calls to me.

I pick up the two potatoes Kentaro had already peeled and mine and bring them to Arata. He’s using a tree stump and a hunting knife to chop potatoes and carrots, then throws the chunks of vegetables into a silver bag.

“Thanks,” he says, as I sit next to him. I soak up the warmth of the fire while he works away. Once the vegetables are in the bag, he throws in some dried herbs and water.

“Campfire cooker.” He zips the bag and throws it into the fire; it lands amongst the coals with a thump. “Those should be ready in twenty minutes.”

“That’s a neat invention.”

“A necessity and Oda has the patent on it. Much better than carrying around pots and pans.”

We both stare into the hypnotic flames as Jiro and Sakai place our meat on a makeshift spit and rotate it. I lean back and sigh, watching the moons above us.

“Arata, do the moons have names? I can’t believe I’ve never asked.”

“Indeed they do. The larger one is Amaterasu, named after the Shinto sun goddess. When Amaterasu is full and blood red, most of the time right around nightfall, people like to be indoors and it’s a bad omen to birth a child during this time.”

“Huh. And what about the smaller one?”

“The smaller is Tsukuyomi, Amaterasu’s brother, the moon god. I always wondered why the moon god got the smaller of the two moons but the naming was way before my time.”

Amaterasu and Tsukuyomi, the major and minor moons. “It’s good to know their names. Is there ever a time when one moon is in front of the other?”

Arata nods his head as he pulls his bag of cake from his backpack. “Indeed there is. Amaterasu and Tsukuyomi are actually about the same size, but Amaterasu is closer to us and therefore appears much larger.” He rolls his cigarette and lights it, inhales and blows out a long stream of smoke. “So every so often, Tsukuyomi hides behind Amaterasu for a whole evening, and we have a ‘One Moon Celebration’ replete with festival games, special foods, fireworks, and marriage proposals, of course.”

“Naturally,” I reply, thinking back on Tanabata in Nishikyō.

“Smoke?” he asks, handing me the cigarette.

“Yes, I think so, otherwise I may not sleep tonight.”

As I take a long drag of the cake and blow the smoke to the two moons, I catch movement off in the distant sky. My owl is returning. Himitsu circles the campsite and fire before landing next to me and dropping a dead mouse on the grassy sand.

“Ew. I see you found dinner.”

He hops onto my knee, and I scratch his head. “I saw no one around? Everything is quiet up to the solar array.” He nips at my fingers, jumps down to his dead prey, and carries it over near the tents.

“Himi says we’re alone out here. We should be fine tonight.”

Across the campfire, Kentaro and Namika sit side-by-side, occasionally whispering to each other. Their conversation seems pleasant but not to ultimate flirting levels. Maybe Namika warms up when she’s alone. If they slept together, something had to have happened to bring them to that point. Anyway, it’s none of my business but happier to think about than war.

Arata serves up potatoes and carrots with a side of meat from Jiro and Sakai. We eat with our fingers and pull food from sticks. When the dinner is complete, Arata and Sakai go to their tents to sleep. Jiro sits behind me, letting me rest my tired and aching body against his while Kumo sleeps next to us. He jiggles my ring on my left hand.

“I’m worried about this falling off,” he whispers, pulling it from my finger. The metal band clears my large knuckle with room to spare. He examines it on all sides before slipping it back on my finger. “We’ll have to get it resized soon. I don’t want anyone taking it from you.” His implication is obvious. This ring belongs to me and his mother had no right to demand it from me.

“Sure.” I close my eyes and lean my head on his shoulder. I like when we pretend we’re a normal couple with normal problems. It’s good to have a break from the madness every now and then. “And there are new tattoos to be had as well.”

“Right,” he says, a note of surprise in his voice. “You’re due for something beautiful. Are you ready for bed?”

“I am, though the fire is nice.”

“I have something for you in the tent.” Jiro keeps his eyes from Kentaro and Namika. “I promise to keep you warm.”

Excitement bubbles in my stomach. What does he have for me?

We say good night to Kentaro and Namika, and Jiro leads me to our small tent. I pause at the door while he unzips the flap, as Sakai’s snores float over to me from one tent over. He’s out. Arata is a quiet sleeper so I suppose he’s asleep too. Himitsu finished his mouse earlier and is out hunting and flying, and Kumo is still a lump by the fire. Inside our tent, it’s cold and silent, so I pull off my boots and climb into the inflated bed. The cover material, though not soft by any means, reflects heat back so I quickly warm.

Jiro turns on a small light in the corner and shuffles around in his bag.

“How about some dessert?” He pulls out a small bag of candy, pink squares jumbled together. “I’m sorry I couldn’t bring chocolate. I didn’t think it would survive the heat.” He kicks off his shoes and climbs in next to me, propping himself up on his side. “Strawberry mochi squares. I’ve had one to make sure they’re okay.”

“Sure you did. You were only looking out for my safety.” I reach into the bag. The confection is pillowy soft, squishing between my fingers, so I pop it into my mouth before I ruin it. Strawberry, vanilla, and sweet sugar melt onto my tongue. “Mmmm…” I sink into the bed. “I haven’t had something sweet in… well, a long time. Where did you get it?”

He pops one into his mouth too and lets it sit on his tongue for a moment before chewing. “A store in Owari. I had Namika pick them up for us before we left. I thought we may need a little something while on the road.”

Jiro places his hand on my hip and rubs his thumb against the waistband of my pants. Such a simple intimate gesture. I’m transported back to the time we kissed in the dōjō when he slipped his fingers into my waistband and caressed the skin there. The passion was so intense, I feel it now with the light touch of his fingers on my body.

I inhale sharply, the memory hitting me so hard it hurts, and close the distance between us with a kiss. We both taste sweet, salt mixing in between our lips and tongues. He crushes me to him, our arms and legs tangled around each other. My breath rushes, my heart beats loudly in my ears, and all I can think is yes, yes, yes.

This is the one thing in life I’m absolutely sure of. I love and want him so badly. What have we been doing all this time? It’s a crime we’ve gone without this need for so long, a burning, powerful need to be connected to him like no one else can. Because he’s mine, and I’m his.

He hums, pulling away from my lips and kissing my cheek, my jaw, my neck, and each spot on my skin burns with desire. I moan but stop myself short. This is not the time nor the place to be loud.

“Shhh,” Jiro whispers, a smile stretching across his face. He reaches over and extinguishes the light, and we’re plunged into almost blackness, light from the moons and the fire outside causing the tent to glow around us. He sits up, grabs the bottom of my shirt, and pulls it over my head. A wash of cold air floats over my body and my nipples rise in protest. Jiro loses his shirt and comes back to me, pulling the cover over us both.

“Why is the desert so cold?” he asks, kissing along my collarbone then down to my chest.

“The sun heats the air and sand during the day, but there’s no moisture to trap heat so it dissipates at night.” I groan and sigh, clutching his head to my chest as he kisses and teases my nipples with his tongue. “Oh gods. I forgot what that feels like.”

He halts at my stomach and sits up. I lift my hips to give him a way to pull off my pants, but he stops, his fingers resting on my jutting hipbones. He bites his lip and his hesitation is like a hammer to my heart.

“I know,” I whisper, my eyes filling with tears. I know how awful I look, skin and bones. I’m nothing like the woman he married. “Please, just love me. I have nothing left in this world. Let me have your love.”

“It’s not that.” He puts his fingers to my lips. “It’s hard to believe where we are now, how much we’ve sacrificed.” He hooks his fingers into my waistband and pulls off my pants. I tug at the snap on his waistband and pop it open. “You’ve even sacrificed your own body, your own child, yet I feel no appreciation from the people that want our help so badly.”

He inches out of his pants leaving them at the foot of the bed. Slowly, he lays his body on top of me, the heat of his skin searing mine on contact. Heaven must be like this. His hair falls forward as his lips skim across mine, so I run my fingers in and dig my nails across his scalp, pressing his lips to mine and erasing my tears. Our breath dances fast between us, a buried need suppressed for months now welling up like a geyser.

I trace my fingertips down his back, feeling how the contours of his body have changed too in the intervening months. His muscles are tight ropes laced over his stomach and hips. He was always in good shape but this is different. His body is carved by hard work, climbing, and probably the exceptional amount of real meat he eats now.

“I’m yours, my love. Say it.” He bites down on my ear, and the pressure shoots electric shocks down my body.

“I’m yours,” I repeat back.

He growls in my ear and bites again. “No. The other way around.”

I pause, ripped out of the heat of the moment. “You’re mine,” I say instead, happiness flourishing in my chest. I let go of him and cautiously raise my arms above my head. We’re traveling back in time, to our first time. I remember pulling him to my bed, how afraid I was to lose him, how everything was going to change. We’re in the same situation again.

He clasps his hands over my wrists, pushes my legs open with his knees and settles himself between them. “That’s right. I’m yours and I have been from the beginning. You think you have nothing in this world, but you have me. Command me.”

After spending months lifeless, my spirit drained and gone, I’m alive for the first time in ages, like spring after a harsh winter. This is what matters. This is worth fighting for. I smile at the pure joy and comfort we bring to each other. I’m whole again.