Reclaimed – Chapter 8

We approach the farmhouse on foot, walking in from the shuttle drop-off point around a mountain to the west. The journey is two hours long, but hiking is a more pleasurable experience when I’m not sick or throwing up every hundred meters. Julia takes the lead, her eyes glued to the surrounding forest. Natsu and Taya spread out amongst the group, also scanning the surroundings for any danger. Kazuo follows Julia, his sword on his back. He hasn’t spoken to me since I gave him his new job. I hope he comes around, but I’m not counting on it.

This time we’re returning to the region in better shape than we left. Our path takes us through the opposite end of town, and as we leave the forest for the dirt roads and houses of the outlying dwellings, a little girl playing with a ball outside spots us and runs up to Julia.

“Who are you? Are you bringing supplies from Takayama?” She dances around, skipping alongside Julia as she leads us along a path.

“Dorobō!” She breaks into a sprint, heading back to her house. A flap in the back door opens and out comes what I think is a dog until it gets closer to us. It runs around the little girl’s ankles a few times and rests its paw against her legs. Julia presses on, not stopping for anything, waist high weeds crumple in her stead, and little girls with strange animals don’t stand a chance.

As we pass, the little creature sits next to the girl and chirps at me. That’s the best way to describe the sound it makes. With its pointed snout, triangle-shaped face, and bushy tail, there’s no way this is a dog, but I can’t drag out my tablet and start searching to find out. Kumo glances at the animal, barks, and dances by my side.

“Sorry,” I say, stepping from our caravan. Julia brings up her hand to halt everyone. “We’re not from Takayama. We’re on our way to the farmhouse on the edge of town.”

“The one up on the hill?”

“Yes, that’s the one.” I smile even though she looks at Kazenoho on my back and blanches. “What did you call your… dog?” My voice gives away my confusion as to what this animal is.

“This?” She laughs and the animal titters away at her, standing on its hind legs and resting a paw against her thigh. “Dorobō is not a dog. He’s a fox.”

They named the fox ‘thief.’ How appropriate. From the stories I’ve heard of foxes, they steal eggs from nests and food from other animals.

“He’s paired with my mother. She’s out shopping, though.”

Paired? I glance around at the forest wondering if other animals are watching us, spying on us, looking to eat us for dinner.

“Oh. Well, we’re expected at the farmhouse anyway. I like your fox… Dorobō.”

“I’ll show you the way, if you like! I know how to get everywhere in town.”

“Shouldn’t you stay where your mother can find you?”

“Nah. Dorobō can go tell her where I am, right?” She looks down at the fox and he runs off. “What’s your name? I’m Sadako.”

“I’m Sanaa.” I wave at Julia to keep going. She turns and leads on, Kazuo glancing in my direction briefly.

“That’s a weird name. I’ve never heard it before.”

Jiro laughs. “It’s not a typical name, no.”

“We’re from the city,” I explain. “And my name is unique, I admit. I had creative parents. I like your town a lot. I wish I could remember the name…” I snap my fingers a few times while directing my eyes up to the sky.

“Rittō. You’ve never been here before?”

“Rittō! Thank you. Just once but we didn’t stay long.”

We transition from the high grass near the woods to cut lawns and trails heading into the town proper. People in backyards hanging laundry and enjoying the nice day lift their heads as we traipse past. A few seem to remember us from our last trip through town, smile, and wave. I smile and wave in return, grateful we didn’t overstay our welcome the last time we were here.

“I like your dog,” the little girl says, skipping alongside me. “White Akita like him are hard to find. Is he paired with you?”

Kumo barks and whimpers at the little girl, running in front of me and back to my side again.

“I don’t know. He’s definitely my dog. What does pairing mean?” As soon as I ask the question, I regret it. I should have just said no instead of showing my ignorance.

The girl’s face whitens, as pale as the clouds in the sky “Are you…?” She glances up at my head, leaning back, and her lips pinch. “No.”

“No, what?”

“Nothing. Hey, I forgot I have to look in on my neighbor. I can’t take you to the farmhouse.”

“That’s fine. We know the way. It was nice meeting you.”

She waves and runs off twice as fast as we’re walking.

“That was weird,” I whisper to Jiro. “Did she seem scared?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “She was looking for something on you. Maybe a marking?”

We round the corner, reaching the bottom of the road to the farmhouse. My body contracts with a wave of cramps and nausea, no doubt psychosomatic because I was feeling fine until I saw the place. I’m not sure I ever want to go into that bathroom again. I think I bled all over the floor. Mariko burned the yukata I wore that day, and I never saw it. She said the fabric was unsalvageable, and we should purge the bad karma from the house anyway.

Kumo runs ahead barking at the front door.

This time the door slides open at the hands of Saru, and Romi is absent. The monkey chirps and squeaks at Kumo, he barks back, walks in, sits down, and waits for us.

“The animals on this planet are strange,” Julia says, crossing her arms.

“I said the same thing the other day.” Kazuo hoists one of our traveling tents onto his back but avoids looking in my direction.

“We’ve been invited in.” I gesture towards the door where Donguri sits now too.

“How can you tell?” Julia’s hand rests on the knife in her belt.

The dogs sit peacefully watching us, their languid pink tongues out the side of their mouths. I shrug my shoulders and lead the way, petting both dogs as I pass.

—-

The dining room on the other side of the house bustles with activity, everyone seated around a hearth glowing with charcoals under wire grills. The room is filled with warm, happy faces, and laughing over glasses of beer and saké. I’m dressed in a pretty yukata and ready to eat.

Arata stands, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder. “I’m glad you’ve returned. I’ve been worried about you.”

“Thank you, Arata,” I say, bowing my head. “I hope Sakai kept in touch.”

I make strict eye contact with him, hoping he already knows about my miscarriage.

“Yes. Sakai was quite informative.”

We nod at each other, and I breathe deep, grateful I don’t have to say anything.

“Oh, robatayaki!” I turn towards the table and coal pit in the center. “I haven’t had a traditional fireside dinner in forever.”

Sakai stands and helps me to sit down on a cushion. “Didn’t we just camp for weeks and eat by the fire almost every night?”

“I wouldn’t call what I did eating, and what I did eat was mostly rice.”

“You look like you’re feeling better, Sanaa. You must be in your second trimester now,” Romi says, and I halt and sigh. No one has told her.

“I lost the baby. The bleeding never stopped when we left here. There was no hope of it surviving.”

Everyone freezes except for Oyama placing open shellfish, shrimp, and vegetables on the barbecue. They sizzle and spurt, and my mouth starts to water. The fragrant smells hit my nose, and my stomach grumbles happily for the first time in weeks.

But Romi gasps and slaps her hand over her mouth. All the men stare into the pit of bright coals.

I bow down, touching my forehead to the tatami. “I apologize for derailing the happy conversation. I… I will eat in my room tonight if that will make everyone more comfortable.”

I stand up from seiza, swiping my sleeves out of the way when Jiro grabs my ankle.

“What did I tell you about apologizing? Sit. I don’t care about anyone’s comfort but your own.”

“Yes, please sit, Miss Itami, and forgive me for my impertinence.” She bows to me, Jiro squeezes my ankle even harder, and I relent, sighing down into my place.

“That smells amazing, Oyama. What are those?” I point to the half shells bubbling away, a pat of butter melting into the corners.

“Scallops. Would you like one?”

“Please.” I lick my lips and reach for a glass of water. “Everyone please relax and eat. Drink. I’m sorry to have made such a fuss.” I close my eyes and curse silently at myself for apologizing again. I grab the carafe of saké and pour for Jiro on my left. He takes the saké and tries to pour for me, but I cover the cup with my fingers. “No, thanks. Every time I drink, someone tries to kill me.” Jiro raises an eyebrow at me before setting the carafe down.

Oyama cooks dinner in stages, serving me, Jiro, Sakai, Arata, and Romi plates of fish and vegetables. Talking and laughter echo down the halls of the farmhouse. Everyone else is eating together in another room.

“You brought some new people along with you, Sanaa.”

“I apologize for the burden on your household. Please let us know how we can compensate you for the trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” she says, waving her hand. “I was merely wondering about your new staff.”

“I… I was uncomfortable being on the road without more help. Trees, forests, hiking, swimming? They’re all foreign to me. I grew up in a city under a dome. What do I know about camping? Nothing.” I pick up a piece of eggplant with my chopsticks, dip it in a miso sauce, and pop it into my mouth. “When we were here last you asked me how we communicate? Are you interested in using our tablet system as well?” This might be a good point of negotiation. Perhaps we can trade goods and technology for cooperation.

“Maybe someday. Thank you, but no, I asked merely to compare our methods of communication with yours. On the East Coast, news travels slowly amongst those who have not been chipped. They send letters, couriers, or ride to towns via horseback to spread information. This is the same for most of Izumo and part of Takayama as well.” She dips her head at Arata and he lightly grunts.

“But here in the North, the majority of us are Oda Clan supporters, and we are chipped.” She tilts her head, pulls her long hair over her shoulder, and points to an area behind her ear. I lean over and see a tiny star tattoo right at her hair line.

“You have a microchip in your brain?” I ask, and she nods in response. “And the star indicates you have it?”

“This way we can tell each other apart. You’ve not been to Owari yet, have you?”

“No.” I shift in my seat, uncomfortable aches shooting from my feet to my hips. We walked a lot today. “I’m excited to go, though. I hear it’s the most advanced city on the planet. Our images from orbit showed city blocks, electronic signs, and some kind of cars in the streets.” Lucy was in awe, her mouth open, searching the photographs. Owari reminded us both of Nishikyō.

“Most citizens of Owari have the chip. The number lessens outside of the borders. This is technology that gets people hanged in the capital. Even here, I risk detection and arrest from traveling Fujiwara army soldiers.”

“I’m surprised. Bio-medical technology died out on Earth after the wars except for extreme circumstances. Many people perished from genetic manipulation and even more genetic manipulation poisoned the Earth and the ecosystem. The founders of Nishikyō worked hard to keep everything at an equilibrium once we were contained in the city.”

“Sakai has told me of your past. It’s truly heartbreaking it went so far in the opposite direction of our intentions here.”

A cold sweat breaks out on my back and neck, but I try to cover my hesitation by eating some rice from a bowl set next to me.

“What does the chip do for you?” I ask, leaning forward to grab a napkin and dab at my upper lip.

“Saru!” Romi calls. After a moment, the shōji screen door opens and Saru, Romi’s pet monkey, enters. He climbs onto Romi’s shoulder and bobs his head.

“Wait. Don’t tell me you communicate with animals and they communicate back. I read Doctor Dolittle when I was a kid and never believed any of it. Too impractical.” A hysterical and high-pitched giggle breaks from my mouth before I can hold it in. I was right. I suspected the people here had a connection to animals but nothing this far-fetched.

“Believe it or not but the chip lets me communicate with animals and has since I was implanted at the age of thirteen.” Saru cheeps at Romi. “This is how we knew about you before you showed up. Our animal network spans the entire continent. They were so confused when you landed in Ōmi and didn’t talk to them.” She laughs as the blood empties from my head. I was kidding!

“You’re serious?” Sakai asks. His eyes dart between Romi and me.

“She is,” Arata grumbles. He purses his lips in disgust, but Romi knocks him on the shoulder.

“Don’t be such a luddite.” She leans towards me, Saru climbing down her back to sit beside her. “See. I grew up in Takayama and left at thirteen to travel to Owari and get the chip. Arata has known me almost my whole life. He doesn’t approve, but he’s never had the connection I have with animals.”

“Rub it in, Romi.” Arata crosses his arms over his chest and sits with his back against the wall. “I happen to get along well with horses.” He nods his head once, firm in his belief, but I laugh.

“Until Kazuki comes flying through the streets looking for me.” I wink at him and he grumbles under his breath.

“His wife, Terumi… You’ve met her?” I nod, focusing my attention on her. “She has a way with cats. Unbelievable. Better than me. But she didn’t want to leave to get the chip. You have to have it implanted before you’re twenty-five. Supposedly your brain is mature at this age and can’t take the signal overload.”

Tears fill my eyes before I can blink them away. Jiro stares into the fire pit, his fingers drumming on his knee.

“What’s it like? How does it work? Do you hear them in your head? Or do they actually speak?” My hands shake as I reach out for a drink of water. I wish I hadn’t passed on the saké.

She shrugs her shoulders, and Saru yammers away at her. “I honestly can’t describe it. Their language has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. Before the chip, my head felt empty. Now I talk with Saru and a few of the cats too.”

“Can you talk to all animals? Or just a few?”

“I can’t connect with all animals. No one can. Some try to talk to me, and I hear nothing but gibberish. Like… Hmmm… Like in the old Earth days, when you would listen to other languages in other countries. You might catch a word here and there, but otherwise, you were unable to communicate.”

“I’m used to that. Nishikyō was diverse. French, Spanish, Dutch, Tagalog, Chinese, almost all the languages survived in little pockets.”

“How incredible!” Romi claps her hands together and drinks some saké. “So I guess you could say I understand a little cat and dwarf macaque.”

Heat pours from my face, my cheeks burning, on fire, the prospect of such a technology exciting me to my core. Jiro closes his eyes and whispers, “Shit,” before filling his cup again.

“What’s the matter?” Romi asks, halting in clearing the third course from the grill with Oyama. Oyama has some marinated bits of pork set up for another round of eating. I’m not full yet, but I’ve lost my appetite in excitement. I want this chip.

“Nothing,” Sakai replies. “It’s just…” I have never seen Sakai stumble on his words before. “Look.” He sweeps his hand at me and I glance down at myself. Did I spill something? I was being careful. Jiro jerks his head to my rear, and I turn to find six cats and two dogs sitting on the floor behind me.

“Arata told me you have a way with animals, and with your bloodline, I have a feeling the two are connected. The Oda Clan keeps their secrets hidden deep, and only their immediate family knows what’s going on. Fujiwara tests people’s DNA either at birth or at marriage because he’s afraid of another imperial uprising, and the last imperial here, Korehito Itami, was allied with the Oda Clan, so it all must be connected somehow.” She drums her fingers on her crossed arms and sits back in her floor chair.

Silence blankets the table until a cat meows.

“Sorry,” Romi says, leaning past me to look at the cats. “I realize I don’t have all the information you want. This is the way we live our lives here on Orihime. We only know what people tell us or what we can observe, and I am nothing but a lonely widow who owns a small farmhouse in a backwater town. With no real computers, internet, or databases, we’re kept in the past with limited knowledge. Arata and I have spent years theorizing the connections between Oda, the animals, and Fujiwara’s fears.”

I reach behind me and hold out my hand, waiting for a cat to offer himself up, and the orange cat immediately butts into my outstretched fingers. I pick him up, set him in my lap, and take scraps of dinner to feed to him. The other cats behind me begin to meow. I cluck my tongue at them. “Don’t be greedy. He came to me first. Oyama will treat you all. I promise.” They lie down and wait.

“The Oda will talk to you,” Romi says, pointing right at me and laughing. “I’ve never seen an unchipped person so easy or commanding with animals. Ones you are not even paired with. I hope you can figure out what I’ve spent my whole life wondering about.”